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QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S 




BREAKFAST AT MARCY's. 



Frontispiece. 



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.«L- -^1. 



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S\ 



FUNNY FRIENDS 



OR 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S 



BY 



OLIVE THORNE MILLER 

Author of "Little Folks in Feathers and Fur," etc. 






\"^- ^^^^--^vi^^^ 




NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty-third Street 



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Copyright, 1892, 
By E. p. button & CO 






Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
Aster Place, New York 



PREFACE 



The facts of Natural History in this volume are connected 
with a thread of story, to please the Little People, who delight 
in stories that are true. 

Because of that form, let no one suspect they are in any way 
fictitious. The facts are carefully gleaned from the best modern 
naturalists and travelers, and the stories of pets are well au- 
thenticated. Most of the latter occurred within my own circle 
of acquaintances, and the others are credited in the text to the 
proper authorities. 

To make a delightful story about animals is by no means the 
aim of the book, but to tell plain facts and true stories of ani- 
mals in a way to interest the Young Folk for whom it was 
written. 

Its value is greatly enhanced by the illustrations, which, with 
few exceptions, were drawn for the book, and from the very 
animals therein described, by Mr. Jas. C. Beard, of whose merits 
as a delineator of animal life no words of mine are needed. 

OLIVE THORNE MILLER. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — Marcy's and the People who lived There 9 

2. — Born in a Prison 31 

3. — Marcy's Odd Pet 38 

4. — Doctor Dot and the New-fashioned Hens 50 

5. — A Black Rogue — in Feathers 63 

6. — Two Gray Babies 75 

7. — Live Toys 84 

8. — Queer Family that lived Next Door 91 

9. — The new Pet that Abby Caught 97 

10. — General that lived in a Boot 108 

II. — Bub 121 

12. — A Home on the Prairies 132 

13. — A Jumping Mouse 140 

14. — The House of Mud 149 

15. — Another Little Stranger 161 

16. — A Native American , ' 168 

17. — The Baby that lives in the Snow Cottage..... 174 

18. — Nannook and Bob 185 

7 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER " PAGE 

19. — A Sailor with Wings i^g 

. — After his Dinner 



20 
21 

22 

23 

24 

25 
26 

27 

28 

29 
30 

31 

32 
33 
34 

35 
36 



204 

— Always in Trouble 212 

— The Little Hermit 219 

— A Distinguished Japanese Guest 223 

— The Baby that's Buried in Sand 231 

— Life in a Lace House 242 

— MopsA, the Fifth Cat 263 

— An Ugly Baby 274 

— Two Funny Fellows 279 

— What they saw in the Park 290 

— With a Long Nose 298 

— Pussy's Wild Cousins 310 

— A Mermaid 325 

— A Strange Story of a Horse 332 

— The Air Castle and the Family that lived in 

It 338 

— Play-house Builders 347 

— The Curious Fellow that came in a Box . 352 




Queer Pets at Marcy's. 



CHAPTER FIRST. 



MARCY S AND THE PEOPLE WHO LIVED THERE. 



I NEVER knew a house that was so full of animal pets as 
Marcy's. One needed to have his eyes open, to avoid stepping 
on a tame bird, or stumbling over a sleepy cat, and timid 
ladies were rather shy of it, keeping a sharp eye on dark cor- 
ners and under sofas, for any strange creature that might rush 
out at them. 

The house stood in the edge of a pleasant village near New 
York, and I call it Marcy's, because Marcy — or Marcia, to give 
her full name — was the elder of the two children, and the chief 
keeper of the family menagerie, about which this book is written. 

Ralph was perhaps as fond of pets as she, but he was apt to 
get '^ tired " and to '' forget," neither of which she ever did, so 

9 



10 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

long as a bird needed seed, or a kitten wanted milk. She 
never refused to sit up all night with a sick dog, and many a 
time was not able to sleep, because the affectionate cat insisted 
on bringing her whole family of kittens on to her bed, or some 
grateful, but lonely, four-footed friend would not rest easy ex- 
cept in her arm.s. 

Many things the family suffered from their pets. Cats slept 
on the white counterpanes, and birds spattered the carpets from 
their baths ; one dog insisted on sleeping between sheets, and a 
parrot nibbled the picture-frames ; a canary picked holes in the 
plastering, and a kitten tore every newspaper to bits ; foxes 
gnawed the shoes and rubbers, and the squirrel made holes in 
the carpets. 

The house-mother was amused and annoyed by turns, and 
Patty, the cook, scolded roundly. The father only laughed, and 

Uncle Karl but wait ! a whole new paragraph must go to 

Uncle Karl. 

This best of uncles was Marcy's great help and comfort. His 
home was with them, and it was he who brought the queer pets, 
made pictures, and told the children about them. He always 
knew what to feed the strangers, and how to treat them when 
ill. In fact, without him, Marcy's would never have been 
known as a home for pets, and you would never have had a 
book about it. 

He had one habit that brought him many a curiosity. He 
visited every ship from strange countries that came into the city, 
to see what animals the sailors had to sell. On the day my 
story begins, he brought home from one of these visits two 
new pets, one of which he gave to each of the children. 

Ralph's gift was a parrot, which had come in a ship from 



PRANKS ON THE CLOTHES-LINE. II 

Mexico, having sailed around Cape Horn, a good five months* 
voyage, and Marcy's was a Florida Chamelion. 

Ralph named his Parrot Keeta, or rather, he named himself 
Parakeeta, and his master merely shortened the name ; and it 
was not long before he distinguished himself as a bird of great 
perseverance and intelligence. When he set out to do any- 
thing, he meant to do it, and it took a great deal to discourage 
him. 

One thing he had made up his mind to do, was to cross 
the yard on the clothes-line. He could climb a rope better 
than any sailor that ever lived ; he had learned that on board 
the ship, where he would go up '' hand over hand," as sailors 
say, using his bill as a third hand, to any height he chose. 

Now, why should not so accomplished a climber be able to 
walk a clothes-line? Keeta decided that he could, and there- 
upon he began. He started out bravely, walking, of course, 
right side up, like a professional rope-walker. When he had 
gone a few feet the rope basely failed him, and turned over. 
Keeta suddenly found himself head down, holding on for dear 
life. 

He was not discouraged, however. He made the most frantic 
efforts to get up ; but no sooner would he succeed in right- 
ing himself than over it would go again. Again and again 
he tried it, getting quite ruffled up, and really furious about it, 
while the children looked on and laughed till the bird began 
to be tired, and then Ralph held out a finger to him, which 
he readily accepted, and so reached a steadier perch. As long 
as he lived he never really gave it up, and every little while 
he would have a serious time with that clothes-line. 

His greatest passion was to throw things down, like a naughty 



12 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

child, apparently to hear the noise, or to see what happened, for 
he would lean over and look with interest at the fate of the 
object thrown. When he chanced to get on the kitchen table 
or shelf, he would march along, and coolly push everything he 
could move over the edge, till Patty drove him out of the 
room in a rage. 

Keeta's favorite place for playing pranks was in Ralph's shop. 
Ralph was fond of tools, and had quite a collection in an unused 
room down- stairs. His father had a carpenter's bench put in, 
and Ralph spent many happy hours, at work or play, in that 
part of the house. 

Of course Keeta was often with him, and seemed to be as 
fond of the shop as Ralph himself, though not for the same 
reason. He would walk solemnly along the bench, picking up 
every nail or tool that he could lift, and dropping it to the 
floor, cocking his knowing head on one side to see where it 
went. 

The chalk-line was his special delight. Yard after yard he 
would throw over, watching the tangle it made on the floor, 
and now and then giving a quiet chuckle of delight at the mis- 
chief he had done. 

Ralph, who had it to wind up again, was not so well pleased 
with this trick, and he thought he would teach Master Keeta 
a lesson. So one day he wound the line in a coil and tied it, 
leaving a long piece hanging from the other end of the bench. 

The next time the Parrot came in, Ralph went to work at the 
farther end of the bench, as though he did not see him, and 
Keeta at once spied the tempting coil of cord. Slowly and 
cautiously he drew near it, keeping an eye on his master all 
the time. 




''■^cyf4?7uxL^ 



KEETA AT HOME, 



14 QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

Ralph, however, seemed absorbed in his work, and very 
quietly Mr. Keeta crept up to the spot, and leaned over to 
seize it. At that instant Ralph gave a sly jerk on the loose 
end of the coil, and the Parrot, astounded to see life in what 
he thought was a dead rope, sprang two feet into the air, with 
a squawk of dismay. 

He was suspicious, however, that Ralph had something to 
do with it, for he was well acquainted with ropes, and never 
saw one jump before. So he turned one eye on his young 
master, who seemed more busy than ever with his work. 

The Parrot then made up his mind that he had been mistaken, 
and once more he turned towards the rope. Again he crept up 
in the most wary manner, and again it sprang from under his 
very claw, making him repeat his leap and cry. He tried it 
several times, till Ralph had to indulge in a good laugh ; but he 
was still not convinced that he could not take hold of the line. 

A favorite perch of the Parrot's was on the edge of an old 
refrigerator that stood in a corner of the shop. There he could 
watch Ralph at his work or play, and also keep an eye on 
the street, through a window near by. Now his wings were 
clipped, of course, and sometimes in getting off this high 
place, poor Keeta would fall down behind the box, where he 
could not get out. 

Then would arise the most dreadful shrieks of '' Ralph ! 
Ralph ! Parakeeta ! Parakeeta ! " till Ralph would come to his 
aid, letting down a rope, which the Parrot would seize, and 
climb out. He was a great talker, chatting to himself for 
hours ; but his language was Spanish, and excepting the name 
Ralph, he never spoke a word of English. 

What killed him they never knew ; but one morning he was 



THEY ARE WARY FELLOWS. 1 5 

found dead on the floor, and his pretty white bones joined 
the '' collection " in the Den. 

Parrots are very amusing pets, and have been kept as such 
almost as far back as history goes. The early Romans kept 
them in cages of ivory, silver, and shell, and hired tutors to 
teach them to say Caesar. When America was discovered, they 
were found as pets in the huts of the natives. 

They are not petted, however, in the country where they 
abound. They are as full of mischief when wild as they are 
when tame, and they destroy great quantities of fruit and grain 
— much more than they can possibly eat, though they go in 
enormous flocks, and have very good appetites of their own. 

They are wary fellows, even before they have learned by sad 
experience how much they need to fear man. When a flock 
alights in an orchard or wheat-field, they keep the most per- 
fect silence ; they know they are stealing. But if the farmer 
comes near, and the watchers they always have, announce it 
by a scream, they all rise in the air with fearful shrieks. 

The funniest thing about wild parrots is the way they live. 
They always have some spot for a bedroom. On the coast of 
Africa, as Du Chaillu tells us, there is a place of this sort called 
Parrot Island. In other places it will be in a bamboo thicket or 
some deep woods, generally where there are many hollow trees. 

There they come every night, beginning to arrive at about 
four o'clock in the afternoon, and flying in vast flocks, so 
many and so fast that even the flocks cannot be counted. 
All are chattering and screaming, and making such a noise 
that they even drown the sounds in a noisy market. 

The fearful din is kept up for a long time. Evidently they 
are telling the news of the day, where they have been, what they 



^-■^:^:\__:'^:^^ 










THE AFRICAN COUSIN. 



THE PARROTS' BEDROOM. 1 7 

have seen, where the wheat is ripe, and whose orchard has the 
most fruit. One by one they retire for the night, into hollow 
trees, where they will crowd till there's not room for another 
claw. 

Early in the morning, before people want to wake up, the 
whole parrot city is awake, making plans for the day ; while one 
after another the flocks will go off in every direction, to eat and 
enjoy themselves all day. About noon they seek some water 
where they may bathe, getting soaking wet in the operation, 
and hiding during the hottest hours in the deepest shade they 
can find. 

Noisy as they always are, they are not so careless as to let a 
stranger come near. They are as curious as monkeys, and the 
moment a person approaches the woods where they are, every 
sound is stopped as if by magic, not a whisper to be heard, and 
every parrot draws closer to the trunk of the tree, to be hidden. 
If the stranger shoots, they all fly with screams. 

All these sociable and lively times cease when nesting time 
comes, and each pair finds, or makes for itself, a cozy home in a 
hollow tree. There the mother-bird sits on her two round white 
^gg^j while the father feeds her, till the ugly little blind babies 
come out, and then she joins him in hunting food for the hungry 
little fellows. 

They are not able to eat hard food, so it is softened in the 
crop of the parent, and the young ones are fed at regular hours, 
twice a day, at eleven, and at five o'clock. The parents are 
attentive and loving, and in eight or ten days the babies have 
their eyes open, and soon are able to fly about and help them- 
selves. Then the families unite in flocks once more, and gay 
life begins in the parrot world. 



l8 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

Parrots, when tame, learn to eat and drink whatever people 
do, even coffee and tea and wine. They not only learn to talk 
everything, but they really seem to know what it means, and in 
fact they are extremely wise birds. One that I read of, put out 
a fire started by a cigar end carelessly thrown down, by turning 
over his drinking cup, and spiUing the water on the fire. 

One that Mr. Wood tells about, got away after being taught 
to speak, in Brazil, and was afterwards seen in the woods teach- 
ing a crowd of his wild relations to speak Portuguese. He 
would say a short sentence, and they would all say it after him ; 
then he would give them another, which they would repeat as 
before. Then he would vary the lesson by dancing, and rolling 
his head, and at once the whole crowd would fall to dancing and 
rolling their heads. 

It was the funniest sight you can imagine. Perhaps, with such 
a school teacher, the Brazilian parrots may all learn to talk Por- 
tuguese — who knows ? 

Another story that Wood tells is of a parrot who liked to be 
dressed in a doll's cloak and hat. He would strut around and 
admire himself, go to sleep to order, and in many ways show his 
delight. But when Dolly was dressed in the clothes herself, 
Polly was very angry ; he would untie the strings, and jerk them 
off of her, as if she had been a thief. However, Dolly didn't 
care, so there was no harm done. 

The parrot's greatest enemy, wild or tame, is a monkey, be- 
cause of an insane desire in every monkey's mischievous head 
to pull out the beautiful tail feathers of the bird. Whenever 
they meet, the naughty monkey at once pounces on the feath- 
ers, and as he is the stronger, poor Poll has a sad time. 

Parrots are affectionate to each other. If one is shot, out of 



A BIRD WITH A FAMILY OF SLAVES. 1 9 

a flock, the rest will not leave him, but will hover around and 
show their distress, so faithfully, that the whole flock may be 
shot, one after another. Not one will fly away. 

They nestle lovingly together in the trees, scratch each other's 
head and neck, and sometimes sleep with their heads under a 
neighbor's feathers. 

Living in New York at this moment is a bird of the par- 
rot family who has a strange story, which his master has written 
for a daily paper. I was about to say that he lives with a 
family, but it would be more correct to say that the family 
live with him, for if ever one small green bird ruled a house- 
hold, and owned a whole family of human slaves, this is the 
bird. 

He is a paroquet, six or seven inches long, and his name 
is Pick. 

The way he came to adopt the family was this : He was 
one day flying about in the air of his native Florida, with a 
flock of his friends, screaming and having a fine noisy time, 
when a hunter came along, and — as hunters usually do — be- 
gan to shoot. 

One fell dead, and the rest came about him, for the parrot 
family, as I told you, never desert a friend in trouble. One 
after another fell before that terrible gun, till only two were 
left, and these were found clinging to the willows, one fatally 
wounded, but the other only hurt by the breaking of a wing 
feather. This is not a pleasant part of the story to any but 
a hunter. Let us hurry over it. 

The unhurt bird was a little fellow, dressed in beautiful 
satiny dark green, with gold-colored cap on his head, and a 
sharp temper of his own. He had not vet fixed his heart 



20 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

Upon the hunter, and he fought and screamed when he was 
smothered in a handkerchief, and carried off to a house. 

The captive was a bird of ideas, and when he reached the 
porch of the hotel, he had evidently made up his mind to 
submit to his fate, and see what would come of it. He step- 
ped from his bonds with the most perfect calmness, picked 
up a straw and began to play with it, ran after a beetle, and 
in other ways made himself entirely at home. He w^as not 
afraid of anybody. He decided to stay, and he was at once 
named Pick. 

What to eat was the first thing to be thought of, for the 
bird was not yet used to human food. Acorns were the only 
thing he seemed to like, and of course his devoted friend, the 
man who had shot him, tramped miles through the woods to 
get them. 

One day Pick found a pine cone and ate the seeds, and 
after that he tried experiments. First he ate nuts, walnuts, 
pecan nuts, peanuts, and others, and at last he hit upon his 
choice of food, which he never changed, though before long 
he ate everything. His choice was almonds, and almonds are 
kept in convenient places to this day. 

He never tried to get away. Before his wing was well, he had 
lost all desire to do so, and he never was tamed. His master, or 
more properly his friend, became his idol, and a more adoring 
soul never lived than this small green bird. 

He learned to eat like anybody, came to the table, dipped 
into anything he chose, devoured onions, bacon, eggs, honey, 
preserves, and cheese. He drank tea and coffee hot, and lemon- 
ade cold. In fact, he did as nearly what his friend did as a 
small bird could, and attached himself to him in every way. 



22 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

When he went out in a boat, Pick would climb to the top 
of the little mast, and enjoy the fishing in the liveliest and most 
excited way. His wing got well, and he could fly, and then he 
would go off on short excursions to the groves ; but never out of 
hearing, and he always came when called. 

Perhaps the greatest trouble at first was to find a comfortable 
sleeping place, and he never really suited himself till he shared 
the bed of his friend. He would creep under the blankets, and 
sleep close to his idol. 

Pick was not gentle in his manners ; he was a born tyrant. 
When he wanted his head scratched — which he often did — he 
would walk up to somebody and lower his head in a way that 
said as plainly as words could do, '' Scratch my head." 

One day he invited a small dog to do this service for him. 
The dog of course paid no attention to the demand, and, after 
one or two sharp orders. Pick rushed at him, gave him a severe 
bite through the paw, then flew out of the dog's reach, and 
watched his cries with delight. 

Pick had one attack of homesickness — it was the last. His 
wing had been well for weeks, and one evening he flew away to 
the woods. He had tried human society for three months, and 
now he apparently longed for the wild, free life of his youth. 

He was gone six days ; but he did not find the old life, for his 
friends were all dead, and a flock of these birds will not let a 
stranger come among them. One evening he came flying back, 
and alighted on the shoulder of his friend, thin, worn, and rum- 
pled, looking very little like the trim, well-fed little fellow that 
flew away. 

He was nearly starved, too, and, after eating his fill of al- 
monds, he went to bed under the bolster, and slept till ten 



PICK'S PLAYTHINGS. ^3 

o'clock the next morning. That day he gave to making himself 
nice once more. He bathed twice, and spent hours cleanmg and 
arranging his feathers. 

After that time, Pickalways insisted on a mornmg bath and 
the wash-bowl was his chosen tub. He would walk up and de- 
mand his bath, and if there was no water, he would seat himself 
in the pitcher, and scream till some was brought. 

After all, little Pickie, though he looked so wise and grave, 
was but a baby, and was fond of toys. Anything bright hke a 
silver thimble, a button, or a bit of tin, he at once pounced upon 
and carried off to play with. Finally, a basket was filled with 
little things he fancied, and set apart for him. He knew th>s 
basket, and knew that it was his, as well as any child could. He 
never allowed a stranger to touch it, and he amused h.mself by 
the hour, turning over the- things and throwing them «" t° ^^e 
floor The favorite plaything was a steel watch-chain, which he 
would wind around his legs, or lie flat on his back and roll over 
and over on the floor to play with. 

He was extremely curious, anxious to go through every door, 
and into every drawer or trunk that was opened. Whatever was 
going on, sewing, writing, or crochet, Pick had a hand in the 
business, and was always ready to express his opinion and give 

his help. , , . 

When the time drew near for Pick's family to go back to their 

home in New York, they began to prepare him for the journey 

by bringing in a cage. It was a strong affair of wire and the 

bird at once looked on it with suspicion, and could not be coaxed 

to go near it. If he was put into it after dark, he would scream 

and work at the fastenings till he opened the door, or let down 

the bottom and got out. 



24 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

It was three weeks before he would stay an instant in the cage, 
if he could help it, and it was months before he was contented 
to be left there. He would scream loud enough to alarm the 
household, and his voice was anything but pleasant. 

By the patient work of his friend, who would lie on the floor 
and talk to Pick by the hour, he was at last brought to submit 
more quietly. He would cling to the wires while his friend 
wrapped bird, cage, and all in a blanket, and then sat down to 
play him to sleep with a guitar, of which he was very fond. Pick 
would listen and chirp, and at last go to sleep, and his tired — 
but always devoted — slave would slip out of the room. 

Pick came to New York with his friends early the next spring. 
The sights and sounds of the great city amazed him. He would 
sit on the window-sill for hours, and watch the people, and listen 
to the sounds about him. 

He was no more shut up in a cage, but flew about the house 
as he chose. Sand-paper was tacked to the wall, on which to 
sharpen his bill, and boxes of almonds were placed here and 
there in convenient places, and Master Pick set up housekeep- 
ing. 

The next winter they all went back to Florida, and the bird 
knew the place as well as the man. He was not confined at 
all, and he visited his old haunts with delight, going out gun- 
ning with his friend, and calmly sitting on the gun while it was 
fired. 

He made no attempt to go back to the woods ; but one day 
two wounded paroquets were brought to the house. Pick was 
delighted, and at once welcomed them like a prince. He put 
the best of everything before them, and tried in eveiy way to 
make them his friends. 



PICK IS POISONED. 25 

The strangers were wrapped up in each other, and would 
pay no attention to Pick. He set food before them, which 
they did not eat ; he offered to plume them, and in every way 
showed his desire to be hospitable and polite. But they would 
not look at him nor accept any civility, and at last poor Pick 
got angry. He bristled up and flew at them. He pulled out 
their feathers and pecked their heads, screaming at them like 
an angry child. 

At this point the strangers were taken away, and Pick was 
once more alone. But it was a month before he became his old, 
careless, cheerful self again. His feelings had been deeply hurt, 
and never from that day did he ever pay the least attention to 
any bird. 

Pick had adventures in the city. Three times he got out of 
the house and was lost. The first time he was found in a bird 
store, having been caught by street boys and sold. Another 
time he was found on the shoulder of a man in a tenement- 
house, and the third time, after being chased and stoned by 
boys, he came back himself. 

He had several narrow escapes from death by hawks and cats, 
by closing doors and dumb-waiters. But the worst was death 
by poison. A meerschaum pipe had left on the mantel a little 
stain of nicotine, and in his curiosity Pick put his droll little 
thick tongue to it. In an instant he fell over as if dead. 

There was great commotion in the house, and a messenger 
was sent to Pick's friend, who came in hot haste to his aid. 
Books were hurriedly searched, and finding that tea was an 
antidote, hot tea was forced into his mouth. He got well ; but 
he never touched a yellow stain again. 

Pick has spent five years with his friend, In the pleasant 



26 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

country in the summer, and in Florida or New York in the 
winter, and he still has his home in New York, in a house care- 
fully arranged for his comfort. 

Every door and window is protected with wire or springs, for 
his safety. Not because he wants to get away, but he gets lost 
in the city. No cat is allowed to show her head inside the door, 
and no cook can stay an hour in the kitchen, unless she can 
cheerfully accept Master Pick's help in everything she does. 

He insists on walking over the kitchen table, inspecting her 
work, tasting and pulling over everything she handles. If she 
objects, he will scream, and that brings the mistress from above, 
as quickly as if it were the cry of a baby. 

There's no use denying it, Pickie rules that house from attic 
to cellar. 

The devouring passion of the bird's whole life is love of his 
one best friend; from* the first he has been his idol. While he 
is in the house Pick never leaves him, but sits on his shoulder 
rubbing against his face, creeps into his pockets or his bosom, or 
performs antics for his amusement, such as walking lame, flut- 
tering his wings, bowing and twisting his body, and other things, 
always insisting on his notice. 

At five o'clock in the morning he wakes and rattles the bars 
of his sleeping cage, till the door is opened and he can get to his 
friend in the bed, when he creeps close to him, or under the 
pillow, and is happy. 

He takes his meals with him, trying every dish on the table, 
and determined to like everything his idol eats. He will obey 
him too. If told not to touch a certain dish. Pick will leave it ; 
and when informed that he may chip the frame of a certain 
picture, he will exercise his strong bill on that one, and no other. 



HE NEVER SEES THE PARROT. 27 

He likes to help in the toilet of his friend, bringing him a 
neck-tie, and trying to lift a hair-brush. The mirror is his de- 
light ; he passes hours before it, pluming himself, and seeming 
to know that it is not another bird, but himself, that he sees. 

When his friend goes away in the morning, he screams his 
good-by, and then goes to the kitchen to spend the time. In 
that room, in a cage, lives a parrot big enough to eat Pick, who 
mocks and calls him half the time. 

" Here, Pick ! Here, Pick-a-wick ! " it will call ; " Get down 
Pick ! " and it will mimic every word of the mistress, in almost 
exactly her tone. But Pick is not deceived for a moment, 
and he never deigns to notice it. He takes his nap serenely 
on a shelf near the range, helps the cook, not two feet from the 
cage, but the saucy Parrot who lives there he never sees. 

He likes to spend the day in the kitchen ; but when it grows 
dark, and home-coming time arrives, he gets upstairs, sometimes 
through an open door, and sometimes by means of the dumb- 
waiter, or by screaming at a door till it is opened for him. Up- 
stairs he sits down to watch for his friend, screaming to him the 
moment the outside door opens. 

If he is late, and Pick is abed, where he goes at nine, he hears 
the click of the key in the lock, and chirps a sleepy welcome. 

In fact, he is a civilized bird, and though he does not speak, 
he looks wise enough to do so, and one can't help feeling that 
he could if he would. 

An interesting member of the parrot family is the cockatoo, 
and Lady Barker, writing from Australia, tells about a very wise 
bird of this kind who lived at a hotel in Melbourne. She says 
he would pretend to have a violent toothache, nursing the beak 
with his claw, as you see in the picture, and rocking back and 



28 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



forth as if in the greatest agony, answering all offers of help 
and all presents of toothache drops with, 
" Oh, it ain't a bit of use ! " 




"oh, it ain't a bit of use!" 



Finally, he would come to the edge of the cage and croak 
out — the naughty bird ! — ^' Give us a drop of whiskey ; do ! " 

He would also pretend to sew, holding a bit of stuff under 
one claw on the perch, and pretending to use the needle with 










THE COCKATOO FAMILY. 



30 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

the other, getting into trouble with the thread, and at last 
singing a song in praise of sewing-machines. 

Another one was the pet of a family, and so fond of pulling 
flowers to pieces, that he was named after a celebrated botanist. 
He was a very sociable, good-natured fellow, and insisted on 
having a hand in everything that went on, even croquet, when 
he would follow his mistress about, and amuse himself by climb- 
ing her mallet. 

His funniest trick was to imitate the cry of a hawk, and the 
time he chose to do it was when his mistress was feeding her 
poultry. A great flock of hens, turkeys, and pigeons all around 
her would be busy eating, when suddenly he would fly off in 
the air, sailing around and calling like a hawk. 

In an instant there was consternation in the yard; every fowl 
would fly to shelter, calling the chicks, and squawking as if the 
dreaded creature already had his claws on them. When all 
were hidden the Cockatoo would alight on a hen-coop and laugh 
some time; and cry, ''You'll be the death of me." 

All the birds of this family are well able to defend themselves, 
for they have beaks strong enough to dig into wood, and to 
crack nuts, and they have a special spite against feet and ankles. 
It is important, therefore, that one intended for a pet should be 
good-natured, and there is as much difference in parrots as there 
is in people. 



WALLING UP HIS WIFE, 3 1 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

BORN IN A PRISON. 

While the children were looking over some pictures of par- 
rots and cockatoos, Uncle Karl showed them one of another bird 
which is found in the same part of the world — Africa — and has 
an extremely curious way of making its nursery. 

The bird is a hornbill, and the nursery is a prison. You 
wouldn't suppose, to look at the mild and dignified expression 
of this bird, that he would be guilty of walling up his wife and 
babies, would you? But you can see for yourself, on the next 
page, the bill of the prisoner thrust out for something to eat. 

There is a good reason for this strange conduct, and you may 
be sure the bird outside doesn't have the easiest task in the 
world to keep his prisoners supplied with food. The country 
of the hornbills is also the home of those mischievous fellows 
the monkeys, and for breakfast nothing is quite so welcome in 
the monkey family as a fresh ^^^ or two. 

They not only like them, but they are very sharp in getting 
them, having four hands, and being able to climb anywhere they 
wish. So it is to keep the eggs and the young birds safe, till 
they are able to fly, that the hornbill mother consents to be 
walled up, and the father undertakes to feed her as well as him- 
self. At least this is supposed to be the reason by men who 
have studied their ways. 



32 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 




FEEDING THE i'RlSONtlK. 



To prepare the curious nursery, must first be found a hollow 
tree, where there is not only room for the nest, but space above 



IN THE DARK NURSERY. 33 

the entrance where the bird can go for safety, if any enemy does 
get his hand inside. 

Having found a suitable tree, the opening is plastered up with 
mud, by both birds, till there is left an opening just large enough 
for the mother bird to go in. Into this place she goes, and 
makes her bed of her own feathers, while her mate outside 
brings more mud, and walls up the door till only a small hole or 
slit is left, big enough to pass in food. 

In that dark room the eggs are hatched, and the little ones 
grow up, while the father finds his time well occupied in bring- 
ing food to his hungry family. Here the devoted mother spends 
nearly three months, getting very fat to be sure, but also very 
weak, from long confinement. Here also the queer little roly- 
poly babies, round and soft as lumps of jelly, big as a pigeon, 
and without a feather to their backs, grow into their first suits of 
feathers, before they get out into the light and air. You can see 
how they look in the picture at the end of this chapter. 

There's another odd thing in the family customs ; sometimes 
the little ones are made to take care of their younger brothers, 
in this way. While the first two are growing, another pair is 
hatched out, and the home in the tree seems small for so 
many. Besides, the poor father is nearly worn to skin and 
bones, hunting food for so large a family, for you know he can't 
take a market-basket and fill it all at once, as your father can; 
he must make a long journey for every mouthful, and bring 
them home one at a time. 

So the door is broken down, and the mother hornbill goes out 
to help him. The entrance is walled up behind her, and both 
parents work hard from morning to night to feed the four hun- 
gry babies. You may think that birds have an easy life, with no 



34 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

houses to keep, no clothes to make, and no schools to go to ; but 
remember how they are obHged to hunt for their food, and bring 
every bit of material for their nests, in their bills, and you can 
see that they have need to be busy. 

When the youngsters are all grown, the family joins one of 
the great flocks of their kind ; for, like parrots, they are sociable 
creatures, and live a gay and merry life in the tops of the trees 
in the deepest woods they can find. They fly about in crowds, 
croaking, and clattering their great bills, making a deafening 
noise, which always alarms a stranger. Some writers say the 
sound resembles a sudden, violent storm, and others describe it 
as a blast of a bugle and the hiss of a sky-rocket together. That 
is a curious mixture of sounds, and it is rather hard to imagine 
what it would be like. 

They seem to make all this noise simply for fun. One of the 
family, the Tok, makes a bow every time he croaks, and when 
he gets excited and says it rapidly, it is a very laughable sight 
to see him bowing as if he would jerk his head off. 

You can see in the first picture what a great bill this bird 
carries. Some of the family have them much larger than this 
one, and it is thought it was a hornbill which was seen by an 
old traveler five hundred years ago, which he said was a bird 
with two heads. The bill looks like a terrible load to carry, for 
in some of them the upper part is as large as the lower, and does 
look exactly as if the bill of another had been fastened upon his 
own. But it is not so heavy as it looks, for it is almost as thin 
as paper, and of course extremely light. Moreover, there's a 
curious thing about birds' bones, which perhaps you do not 
know. Their bones are hollow, in some birds to the very toes, 
and the openings are so connected with the lungs that they can 



THE BONES TELL THE STORY. 35 

be filled with warmed air, making them very light, as you see. 
Birds can even breathe through a broken bone. 

What is still more wonderful and interesting, the microscope 
is able to show where a bird has lived, simply by looking at the 
bones. This is surely the last place one would think of look- 
ing for a record of one's life, but it is there — at least in birds. 
One who has lived in a house, among ladies, carries in its 
bones bits of gay silk and wool, from the dresses and em- 
broidery. One whose life has been in a baker's shop, tells the 
tale by remains of meal and coarse clothes. 

You know, perhaps, that the dust of our houses is merely the 
tiny bits of whatever is in the house — carpets, clothes, food, and 
so forth. As the substance wears away, minute particles of it 
are set free in the air, and of course we, as well as birds, draw 
them into our lungs as we breathe. But birds drawing the air 
even into their bones, the particles are left there, and, as I said, 
may be found after the animal is dead, to tell the story of its 
life. 

Hornbills never walk, they hop. Big and dignified as they 
look, they go up the trees by hopping from one branch to 
another a little higher, and on the ground they hop along as if 
they were no larger than sparrows. 

These birds eat almost everything — seeds and fruit, which they 
toss up and catch in their enormous bill, rats and mice, insects 
and snakes, which last they discover below the surface, and dig 
out to eat. Some of them eat nutmegs, which makes their flesh 
spicy and nice to eat; and if the fruit he desires is too tightly 
fastened to the tree, it is said the bird will seize it and fling 
himself off the branch, that his weight may break it off. 

In Ceylon it is said, by the natives, that the hornbill never 



36 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



goes to the water to drink, but catches the drops in his bill 
during a rain-storm. 

A hornbill is as curious about things as a crow, and instantly 
gives the alarm if a stranger appears. Not that he is afraid, for 
he is a brave fellow, and does not hesitate to pounce on the 
largest birds of prey, and he torments the leopard nearly out of 
his wits. 

They are affectionate birds ; a pair of hornbills always perch 
close together. Dr. Livingstone tells a little story of one, which 
shows how fond they are of each other. A flock of hornbills 
were flying around the ship he was on, when a gun was fired, 




TOO YOUNG TO GO OUT. 



and a fine bird fell to the deck of the ship from fear. He was 
taken prisoner and kept on board. 

When the flock flew away together in the morning, the mate 
of the captive did not go with them, but flew about the ship, 



DIED OF GRIEF. 



37 



and called in the most pitiful way to her mate to join her. In 
the evening she came again, and repeated her cries and entrea- 
ties to him to come. 

The poor fellow grieved himself to death in a few days, refus- 
ing to eat or be comforted. He had not been hurt by the gun, 
and there was no cause found for his death except that. 







THE BOWING TOK. 



38 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

marcy's odd pet. 

I SAID that when Uncle Karl gave Ralph the parrot, he also 
gave a new pet to Marcy. It was a Florida chameleon, or 
rather, a small lizard which is called so, though it is really, in 
the books* the green Carolina lizard. 

He was a pretty little fellow — for a lizard — about three inches 
long, with a very slim tail longer than his body. He was gen- 
erally of a greenish brown color on the back, and greenish white 
on the under part. But the most curious part of him was his 
feet. The toes were spread widely apart, and the last joint 
above the claw on each was flattened out like a little pad. 

He could walk up the side of a wall, or even glass, and he 
thought nothing of holding on for hours, head down, waiting 
for some wandering fly to come near. He could also jump, for 
which purpose he had very long hind legs. 

Marcy was much interested in the lively little creature, named 
it Snap, because of the way he seized a fly, and tried to keep 
him supplied with food. She also found a book in the library 
that had an account of some of the same family that were kept 
by an American gentleman, and she made him a home, as near 
as she could, like the one his pets lived in. 

She took an old gold-fish globe of rather large size, put moss 
in the bottom, and a little dish of water, and to keep Snap in, a 




SNAP, THE FLORIDA CHAMELEON. 




40 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

wire-gauze dish-cover fastened over the top. Then shei 
good deal of time catching flies for him and watching his 

I must say there wasn't much to watch, for he didn't seem to 
enjoy being in prison ; he evidently preferred to jump about as 
he pleased, over the furniture and on the tables. Once, when 
the cover was displaced, he got out and ran away, and Marcy 
had hard work to find him. Not only to find him, but to catch 
him without hurting him when found ; for he had no idea of giv- 
ing up his liberty, and just as she would think she had her hand 
on him, off he would dart out of her way. 

She caught him at last, by throwing a towel over him, and re- 
turned him to his home, where he was soon fast asleep in the 
sunlight. 

I said that Snap was generally of a greenish brown color; but 
he got his popular name — chameleon — from the fact that he 
changes color. When he went to sleep, he turned bright green, 
and he did the same when he basked in the sunshine ; also when 
he died, which he did before long, his body was of a beautiful 
green. 

The gentleman — Mr. Lockwood — whose pet lizards Marcy 
read of, tells many curious things about them. Among the rest 
he describes the way they throw off their old clothes, which they 
do as they grow too big for them. 

The operation begins by the head turning gray, and the skin 
splitting across the top. As soon as this happens, the little fel. 
low rubs his head against something, pushing the old skin off 
from his head, and on to the neck, where it looks like a very 
large collar. A little while he sits up in the sunshine, and then 
goes to work again, pushing and rubbing it backward till it is as 
far as the thighs, though quite ragged. 



HE EATS UP HIS COAT. 4^ 

He then takes a new way. He turns his head back, and, seiz- 
ing the old coat in his teeth, pulls with all his might. After 
tumbling over once or twice, a big piece is jerked off, which he 
at once eats up ! So he goes on, tearing off pieces of his old 
clothes, and swallowing them as fast as he gets them off, till all 
is gone, and he appears in a fresh, new suit. 

The same gentleman tells of a lady in Florida who had four of 
these little creatures as pets. She kept them fastened to her 
head by silk cord, and let them run over her hair and shoulders 
as they pleased. 

Let me copy for you a charming picture of lizard life in Flor- 
ida, from one of Mrs. Stowe's letters : 

" The lizards have certainly very confused notions as to the 
purpose of our house. As they view it, it was built for a lizard 
park. On a hot day there is a lizard to every shingle, sitting in 
every variety of quaint attitude, and winking at us with their 
gem-like eyes. Lizards live on flies. The chief end of a lizard 
is to eat flies. And oh ! to see the gay assurance with which a 
thoughtless young fly will stand tattooing with his hair brushes, 
while a sly lizard is winking grimly at him close by. Snip! dart! 
and away goes my fly. It is the end of all things to the fly, but 
only a pleasant bite to the lizard." 

The real chameleon, after which this little American is named 
because of his changing colors, is quite a different animal, and 
has often been kept as a pet. He is, however, the most indiffer- 
ent and stupid of pets, and was never known to get so tame that 
he wouldn't try his best to get away. 

He is old from the very cradle, you may say. The baby 
chameleon, less than an inch long, is grave and deliberate as his 
mother, and she is noted for being one of the slowest of all liv- 



42 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

ing creatures. One would suppose such an infant would there- 
fore be a comfort to her ; but I regret to say that she shows the 
most perfect indifference to her little ones. 

She simply places the round, white eggs in the sand, and that's 
all the trouble she takes about them. This little fellow — like 
most reptiles — has to thank the warm rays of the sun for ever 
getting out of the egg-shell. No family cares for this strange 
mother ! To bask in the sunshine, to have plenty of flies to eat, 
and to hide from her enemies are all she desires in the world. 

The chameleon is chiefly interesting on account of its wonder- 
ful change of color, and to study that, it has often been made a 
pet of. Mr. Wood tells of one that he bought from a dealer in 
birds and animals in London. 

The man brought a handful of them out of a bird cage, and a 
queer wriggling mass they were, some grasping each other, and 
some feeling wildly around in the air for something to take hold 
of, their eyes turning every way, and all rolling and unrolling 
their long, slim tails in disgust at this disrespectful treatment. 

He selected a strong, healthy-looking one, and carried it 
home in a small cage. While he made ready a proper place for 
his new pet, he let it walk up on a curtain. The Chameleon 
liked this, and Mr. Wood went on to settle him, by fixing a 
forked branch of a tree into a board, which he hung upon the 
wall. 

When all was ready, he took hold of the little animal to put 
him into his new home ; but the Chameleon was satisfied with 
his quarters, and did not care to move. He acted like a naughty 
child, who is being carried where he does not want to go, and 
catches at everything he passes. 

The Chameleon, when one foot was released from its grasp. 



A SLOW TRAVELER. 43 

would hold all the tighter with the other three. Loosen the 
feet, and the tail would twine itself around a tassel, and hold 
on for dear life. In fact, as he did not want to hurt the little 
creature, the gentleman was obliged to climb up and remove 
him carefully from his hold. 

On the tree branch he lived for some time, and it was all the 
house he needed. He required no bed, for they never lie down, and 
no dining-room, for they snatch their dinner wherever they see it. 

For some time the only variety in his life was traveling the 
length of his branch and back, and traveling is a most absurd 
performance in a chameleon. When he made up his mind for 
a walk, he would first take an extra turn of his tail around a 
twig, and a tighter grasp with three feet, and then slowly and 
gravely raise one forefoot to proceed. Having poised it in the 
air, he would stop to consider. This moving about was a seri- 
ous business, and required thought. Sometimes he would stay 
exactly in that position for hours, before he would take the 
step, and lift another foot. 

If he was disturbed or annoyed, by rubbing with the finger, 
for instance, he would gather himself into a funny heap, swell 
out his sides, and try to look very dreadful. He would — if 
angry enough — make himself look really terrible, so that a dog 
would be afraid to touch him. One day a dog was found vio- 
lently barking, and rushing towards a chameleon, who had 
raised himself in a threatening attitude, his fore-paws held up 
as though he would tear the dog to pieces, his harmless mouth 
open as though he would devour him, and swelling and pufBng 
himself as big as his skin would hold, while he turned of the 
brightest yellow and black color, and hissed like an angry cat. 
No wonder the dog did not dare touch him. 




THE DOG DID NOT DARE TO TOUCH HIM. 



A RUNAWAY CHAMELEON. 45 

Mr. Wood's pet did not seem afraid, and would take flies 
from his hand the first day he had him ; but he never seemed 
exactly satisfied, and when left alone, made excursions about 
the room. 

The first time he was found on the gas-pipe, but the second 
time he seemed really gone. Nothing could be seen of him, till, 
after a long search, his owner looked out of the window, and 
there, basking on the hot bricks, was the missing pet. 

This got to be a favorite place of his, for there the sun was 
hottest, and the bricks grew so heated that a person could not 
bear the hand on them. Nothing can be too hot for a chame- 
leon, and there he would sit, fairly baking in the sun, and never 
stirring till the sun went behind the houses in the afternoon. 

He proved to be such a truant that he had to be tied up. 
Around one foot was fastened a long piece of scarlet silk braid, 
with a loop at the other end to slip over something to hold 
him. 

So he passed his days serenely ; but there was one thing that 
excited him. One morning a big blue-bottle fly came buzzing 
and bumping his head against a pane of glass, too high for 
the chameleon to reach. He fixed one eye on the tantalizing 
creature, and he turned black and brown in streaks, till he 
looked like a jaguar. Changing color is the way a chameleon 
shows his feelings, and this color expressed the most furious 
rage, though his body was as stiff as if made of wood. 

The thing most heartily despised by this odd fellow was to 
walk on the ground, and no wonder ! He was made to live on 
trees, and had no soles to his feet. In truth, you may say he 
had no feet, for they were much more like hands, to grasp with. 
When put on the ground, he made the most hurried attempts 



46 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

to get away. He could hardly be said to walk, and he surely 
did not hop nor gallop. His gait was a sort of scrambling wad- 
dle or a hobble, with his tail held up from the ground like the 
handle to a pump, a very droll object indeed. 

But place him on a tree, and he was at home. He would 
hurry — as a chameleon can hurry — to the top twigs, and there 
he would plant himself in some stiff position, flattening himself 
like a leaf, gathering himself into a bunch like a sprig of leaves, 
or in some other shape, that, being so near the color of the 
bark and leaves, he could hardly be seen. There he was 
happiest, and he would draw himself almost into a ball, as he 
always did when happy, and sit patiently all day. 

In old times it was thought that the chameleon lived on air. 
He can do without food a long time, but he likes to eat as well 
as anybody, and this one, at least once, took a good dinner. 

His master wanted to see how much he would eat, and he 
kept account. He ate several blue-bottle flies, several crane 
flies, a grub, some drone flies, and two or three caterpillars. 
Think of that for a little fellow only a few inches long! 

He made a great fuss about his eating, chewing and gulping 
as though the mouthful was too big for him, even when it was 
only a common ant. 

He came near having an untimely death for want of water, 
for, although plenty was kept before him in a dish, he would 
not touch it ; but one day a few drops were spilled, and Mr. 
Wood noticed that he greedily lapped them up as they rolled 
down the pane, and when all was gone he climbed the window 
and stuck his tongue into the corners. 

Of course a little more was spilled — on purpose — and the 
thirsty creature stood and lapped till he was satisfied. After 



LIVING ON A LADY'S HEAD. .47 

that he never wanted for drink, and his favorite way of getting 
it was from a branch which had been dipped in water. 

I have read of a tame chameleon, belonging to a lady in 
Egypt, that would drink from a cup, lifting its head like a 
chicken, and also enjoyed mutton broth. This one lived on 
its mistress' head and shoulder for months, fastened by a silk 
cord to a button, and was a fierce little fellow to others of its 
kind, biting off their legs and tails when shut up with them. 
He had notions, too ; he did not like to have faces made at 
him. If a person opened the mouth at him, he would puff and 
turn black, and sometimes hiss. 

When he wanted to jump down — which he sometimes did — 
he would blow himself up like a small balloon, and then drop, 
and he never seemed hurt. 

To go back to Mr. Wood's pet. He was fond of a shower- 
bath from a watering-pot. He would also hold up his head 
— mouth open — while water was poured down his throat, and 
when it rained he would go out the window and enjoy it. 

A writer who has studied chameleons, says it is like two 
animals glued together, a sort of Siamese twin of a fellow, only 
the two sides seem never to agree on what they will do. One 
eye will roll up and the other down, one side turn green while 
the other is brown, and one side will sleep while the other is 
awake. I have told you more about this in another book. 

This curious fellow did not seem to learn by experience, as 
others do. He would crawl again and again on to a branch 
which was covered with prickles, and hurt him. He always 
slept in a fork of a branch, with his tail tightly twisted around 
a twig ; but some that were kept by Dr. Bacheler, a missionary 
in India, slept hanging by the tail, or the tail and one foot. 



48 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

Those he had were brought by an Indian woman from the 
deepest jungle, where they spend then' lives, and he kept them 
in a bird cage, though he let them out awhile every day. 

When let out, they were put on the ground or a tree, and a 
boy was set to catch grasshoppers and feed them. 

If left alone, they were sure to get on the trees and hide, by 
holding themselves perfectly still in some strange position. So 
he decorated each one with a tie of red worsted, and then he 
could easily find them. 

The power this little animal has to change its form is as 
strange. Dr. Bacheler says, as its change of color. Sometimes 
it looks like a ^' disconsolate mouse, sitting mum in a corner ; 
again, with back curved and tail erect, it resembled a crouch- 
ing lion ; " and sometimes it flattens itself like a leaf seen 
from below. 

His chameleon would lie with mouth open, waiting for a fly 
or other insect to come along, while Mr. Wood's pet kept his 
mouth so tight shut that one could hardly see where it was. 
So it seems that chameleons differ, as well as people. 

Many people have tried to find out how this queer little rep- 
tile changes its color, and why; but, except deciding that it is 
.a display of his feelings — that he takes on stripes with one emo- 
tion, and spots with another, that he turns one color when 
angry, and another when pleased — they have not really found 
out much about it. 




IN THEIR NATURAL HOME 



50 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER FOURTH. 

DOCTOR DOT, AND THE NEW-FASHIONED HENS. 

Perhaps you would hardly call a chicken a queer pet ; but 
I want to tell you of one that lived in the house at Marcy's, 
and also about a new-fashioned sort of wooden hen, that lives 
on Long Island, and beats Madam Biddy herself at her own 
work. 

It was one fine day in the spring that Dot went to live in 
the house. The way it happened, Marcy had been to visit her 
Uncle Daniel, who lived on a farm, and on that day started for 
home. Her uncle noticed, as he went through the yard to take 
her to the cars, that one of his Bantam hens had just made her 
appearance with a fine family of little ones, the tiniest atoms of 
chicks that ever walked. 

Knowing how fond Marcy was of pets, as a last joke on her, 
he hastily snatched one from the group, and carried it down to 
the cars. Then, telling her that he had something for her to 
remember them by, he carefully opened his hand, and, with a 
flutter and a faint peep, out popped the very littlest chicken 
Marcy had ever seen. It stood up quite pert and lively on her 
hand, and of course she was delighted. 

After being assured by her uncle that the hen mamma 
wouldn't mind — that she had so many she would never miss it — 
she forgot in a moment her sorrow at leaving the country, and 



DOT GETS UP ON THE TABLE. $1 

began to look about for some way to make the little stranger 
comfortable, being so interested in the operation that she al- 
most forgot to say good-by to Uncle Daniel. 

The train was speeding through another village some miles 
away before she had settled the traveling arrangements of her 
new pet, by hastily throwing ribbons and ruches out of a small 
round box in her satchel, lining it with a soft pocket-handker- 
chief, and punching holes in the cover to let in the air. 

Into this she put Madam Bantam's baby, naming it Dot — it 
was such a bit of a creature — and in this curious carriage it 
reached home before evening. It was at once put out on the 
table for the family to admire, fed with bread and milk, which it 
ate as though it was hungry, and again put to bed in the round 
box, on a fresh bed of cotton. 

Dot was the roundest, the funniest, and the wisest of chickens, 
and she was never in the least afraid of any one. She ate bread 
and milk for awhile, then varied this baby /ood with crumbs 
from the table, and now and then a fly which was careless enough 
to alight near her. 

She delighted to be on the table when the family were at 
meals. She would run from one to another and get a crumb 
of bread, a bit of potato, or something from each one. But as 
she grew bigger and took things for herself, as a nip of the 
butter, or a lump of sugar, or hopped up on the platter, getting 
her feet in the gravy, and doing other naughty things, a law 
had to be made that Miss Dot must take her meals alone. 

Her greatest treat in these early days was to be put up on the 
window frame, in the middle, where the two sashes meet, and 
hunt flies, which delight in that spot. She would run after a 
fly as eagerly as any chicken ever ran after a grasshopper, 



52 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

and was often so heedless as to fall off, so that Marcy had to 
stand by her when on that dizzy height, lest she should fall and 
break her neck. 

As she grew taller it was decided that though Dot was very 
well for a pet name, it was hardly dignified enough for a full 
name, and after much thought, and perhaps a little help from 
roguish papa, it was enlarged into Dorothea Daniel Davidson, 
the latter after the uncle who presented her. She was gener- 
ally called Dot, or D.D., or Doctor (which D.D. stands for), and 
at last, by this means, the name Doctor Dot was pretty well 
fastened upon her. It was rather a queer name, to be sure, but 
Dorothea didn't care ; she would answer to any one of the 
whole string. 

Perhaps you think it must have been lonely for one poor 
little chick in a house full of big folk ; but she was not alone. 
She had one special playmate — Mother Bunch — and plenty of 
neighbors besides. 

To begin with, there was Abercrombie Fitz Plantagenet, the 
cat, who lived in a basket that hung from the gas, and was 
never so happy as when her basket was set spinning by some 
kind hand. One would think that performance would have mud- 
dled her brains, and made her a dizzy, topsy-turvy, good-for- 
nothing ; but so far from that, she was one of the gravest and 
wisest of pussies, as you might know from her name, and when 
not spinning around in her airy cradle, would sit for hours at a 
time on a chair by the window, looking at the passers-by, and 
evidently studying human nature, and making up her mind 
about many things. 

Should no chair be near the window, or the blinds not be 
open, this wise cat Abbie (as she was usually called), would cry 




'^js^ n'iiii ; 



l^lf ili" ''^S^^^#SS^i?^-^ "■ 



ABBIE AND THE BABY. 



54 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

and mew, and pull some one's dress until she got what she 
wanted, when she would take her seat with dignity, and '' re- 
sume her studies," like the unfortunate young gentlemen of 
Dr. Blimber's school. 

Very different from this stately puss was her baby, the only 
one which was left after a sudden calamity in her last family, 
and was named Mother Bunch, because she was such a funny 
bunch of a thing. From the first. Mother Bunch and the Doctor 
were the best of friends, and played together like two kittens. 
They would roll over and over together, and run after each 
other. The kitten would slap, and the chicken would nip. 
Dot seemed determined to do everything that Mother Bunch 
could do. When in the yard together, Dot w^ould play with a 
bit of clothes line hanging down, exactly as the kitten did, tak- 
ing it in her mouth and running around the post with it, and she 
often made most desperate efforts to climb the clothes post 
after Mother Bunch. 

At first the Doctor would run from a rat, or a strange cat ; but 
as they grew older, poor little Mother Bunch became blind, and 
then she seemed to know that she must take care of her friend. 
No strange fence-cat could more than show his head in the 
back-yard before she flew at it, screaming, with mouth open, as 
an angry chicken will, till the quiet-loving cat — though of course 
not at all afraid — would retire to a more peaceful yard. 

Mother Bunch's favorite napping place was between the 
blind and the window, and if it chanced to be shut, she would 
cry and teaze till it was opened for her. The Doctor always 
took her place on Pussy's back during the nap, partly perhaps to 
watch over her friend, and partly to have a little nap herself. 

Dot was fond of playing with children, as she saw Mother 



THE CHICKEN TRIES TO BE A KITTEN, 55 

Bunch doing. She would run after them and snatch at their 
clothes, and once she drove a little boy into a corner, and 
frightened him half out of his wits by jumping at him as though 
she would eat him. 

She always thought the garden was made for her amusement. 
No sooner would a tiny plantlet show its head in the bed, than 
Dot would pull it out, apparently for fun, or to see what it 
could be doing there, and then she would scratch up the 
ground around it to see if any more of the saucy little leaves 
were coming up in her yard. 

As the Doctor grew bigger it looked rather funny to see a hen 
about the house, though she was a small one, but she would not 
be driven out to live. If she found the door shut against her, 
she would fly up to window-sill, and peep and cry to be let in, 
till some kind heart inside would open for her; for, after all, how 
should she know why the cat could live in the house and she be 
shut out. 

She settled the matter herself finally, for now that she was no 
longer a chicken, her frolics with Mother Bunch came to an end, 
and new fancies began to occupy her. She evidently thought it 
high time that she had a nest. She grew uneasy, clucked 
around like any old hen, and teazed Marcy till she arranged a 
box with a nice nest for her. Into that Dot retired and laid her 
first ^%%. 

Such a cackling and clucking over one small Q^'g you never 
heard. So important and fussy was she, that it was almost 
impossible to live with her. Egg after ^<gg was placed in the 
nest, till she had enough to suit her ideas of a family, and then 
she took to sitting in regular hen fashion. 

When at last she came off with ten chicks, the proudest little 



56 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

mother in the world, another decree went forth, that now. In- 
deed, Dorothea Daniel Davidson must live in a small house in 
the yard. So, under a pretty tree, in a nice low-roofed cottage 
with lattice front, now went to live Doctor Dot and her babies 
ten, so busy with her cares, that she never seemed to regret her 
change of homes. 

One thing more she did before she settled down into the life 
of a common hen. One night the door of the coop blew shut, 
and she and her family could not get in. It was cool weather, 
and she longed for her comfortable perch inside, so she came to 
the house for help. The door was shut, but she flew on to the 
old window-sill, and began to tap on the glass with her bill. 

Some of the family, not seeing her very plainly in the twilight, 
were frightened a little, but her old mistress knew her at once, 
and opened the window to let her in. But that was not what 
Dot wanted. She pulled her dress, and tried to draw her 
toward the door. 

"Perhaps she wants something," suggested papa, and Marcy 
at once started out to see. She opened the door, and Dot ran 
ahead eagerly. Marcy followed, and she led directly to the 
coop, where the whole Bantam family were collected around the 
shut-up door. No sooner was it opened than they all hurried 
in, and were soon fast asleep for the night. 

Another time there was trouble in the family. A gentleman 
walked into the yard with two young dogs. They were hunters, 
and thought chickens were made to be chased, so they both 
started for Doctor Dot and her babies. 

That plucky little hen did not run — not she! She was not 
afraid of a dog, nor even of two ; on the contrary, she was en- 
raged at their impertinence, and she flew at them like a small 



A WOODEN MAMMA, 



57 



fury. Perching on the back of the boldest one, she beat him 
with her wings, pecked his head, and scratched with her claws 
till he ran yelping back to his master. The other pup quietly 
retired behind his master at the first alarm, and looked on with 




interest at the queer fight. 

The two young hunters 
sneaked out of the yard, and 
Madam Dot returned to her 
duties, shaking out her feathers and mut- 
tering to herself for some time. 

What would the little hen-mothers say — do you suppose — if 
they should find out that a man has invented a new sort of 
mothers for the chickens of our day ? The chicks of the future 
are to have no fussy, clucking, feather-bed of a mamma, but a — 
machine ! 






58 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

That man lives on Long Island, to be near New York, where 
he can sell his really motherless chickens, for, of course, he only- 
wants them to sell. May be, after all, a wooden mother is good 
enough for a market chicken. 

This man takes the eggs away from the hens, and how do you 
suppose he regards an Qgg, that wonderful pearly treasure in 
which lies cuddled up a pretty chicken ? Merely as unripe fruit 
which must be ripened for market ! 

Let me tell you about his place, which though it is not a home 
is really a palace for poultry, where hens live in a three-story 
house, and take the air on a balcony. In one building two 
hundred feet long and twenty-four feet wide are two rooms, one 
upstairs and the other down. Down-stairs are the artificial 
mothers, and upstairs the nursery where the chicks go as soon 
as they leave the tgg. 

When they have outgrown the nursery, they go to live with 
the grown-ups in a grand three-story house, with balconies and 
verandas and long sloping stairways leading to the fields where 
the whole family go to catch grasshoppers and other things nice 
to eat. This chicken-palace is kept in very nice order. It is 
plastered to make it warm, and whitewashed to make it sweet. 
It has plenty of nice perches, and dishes of water, and is swept 
clean eveiy day. In fact, the residents are the aristocrats of the 
poultry family, if they did have a machine for a mother. 

But you must hear about these queer mothers, for there are 
two of them. The first one is nothing but a box in the shape of 
a barrel, with a chimney and a cover to come off. To hatch 
eggs are only needed two things — quiet and warmth. Now 
nothing could be more quiet than the bottom of a barrel, and 
the warmth is got by burying the box to its cover in the hot 




SOME OF DOCTOR DOt'S RELATIONS. 



■ 

6o QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

sweepings of a stable, as the gardener makes a hot-bed, you 
know. 

Twenty-one days the eggs stay there, one or two hundred to 
each wooden mother, instead of only ten or a dozen, as Biddy 
hatches them, and then the chicks step out. 

Up to this time it doesn't make any difference to them 
whether they had a live mother, or only a warm place ; but now 
who's going to cluck to them ? and, above all, to cuddle them 
under her warm wings from the cold ? I can tell you — the 
second mother, or step-mother she might be called. 

The step-mother, then, who receives the big families of one or 
two hundred, as soon as they are out of the shell, is another 
machine, another wooden box, with a cover to come off. This 
cover is lined with something soft and warm, to take the place 
of old Biddy's feathers, and is made to slide up and down so 
that it may always be high enough to just touch the babies' 
backs, and not to press upon Ihem. This mother is kept warm 
in the same way that the first one was. 

It is funny to see how quickly the chicks adopt their queer 
wooden mother, and run under her warm — would you call it 
wings ? The little creatures seem very happy, and never appear 
to have a wish to live in a cottage in the yard, with one fussy, 
clucking mamma to take care of them. They eat and run about, 
and soon grow big enough to roost on the low perches in the 
nursery, and when they do that, in about three weeks, they are 
considered too big for the nursery, and then go to live in the 
big house with the hens. 

Sometimes in this place a queer thing happens to a hen. She 
takes a notion to sit, and she is not treated with a cold bath, 
nor set upon hot porcelain eggs, as many hens are. No indeed ! 



A FUNNY SIGHT, 6 1 

A very kind man at once provides her with a nest and a dozen 
eggs that have already been in the warm arms of the wooden 
mother in the house till nearly ready to break the shell. Madam 
Feather-top clucks her thanks, and settles herself for a three 
weeks' job. 

In a few days, however, those precocious youngsters break 
the shell and insist on coming out, to the great amazement of 
the hen. 

" Dear me ! " she says — in hen talk — " who ever heard of such 
smart babies as these ! Really I don't feel quite satisfied, and it 
seems a little strange, but — there's no doubt of it. Here they 
are, every one, and my duty is plain." She shakes herself out, 
clucks, and starts off with her brood. 

But wonders are not over in her experience. She leads her 
young family out to breakfast in the field, and, to her astonish- 
ment, they seem to increase. She started out with twelve, and 
before she knows it she has a hundred or two about her. It 




THESE POOR CHICKS HAVE ONLY A WOODEN MOTHER, 

seems strange certainly ; but, after all, they must be hers, and so 
she runs about and clucks and scratches for the whole crowd. 
It is a very funny sight, and reminds one of the dear little 
" old woman who lived in a shoe, and had so many children she 
didn't know what to do." 



62 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



The truth is— as you have guessed — that man, who was so 
suspiciously kind about the nest and eggs, has slyly brought out 
all the others which the wooden mamma hatched on the same 
day, and completely fooled Madam Feather-top. 

With these new-fangled mothers people may think they are 
independent of poor old Biddy's work, and it is true they are in 
a measure ; but if she cares anything about it, she may console 
herself with the thought that, after all, they can't yet find 
any one that can furnish a hen's ^^^ — except a hen. 



\ 







c> 



NO MORE CARES FOR BIDDY. 



ROCKED BY EVERY BREEZE. 63 



CHAPTER FIFTH. 

A BLACK ROGUE— IN FEATHERS. 

The next pet that I shall tell you about was Cudjo, the crow, 
who opened his eyes on this beautiful world in an airy home at 
the top of a big cotton-wood tree. In that retired spot, where the 
cradle was rocked by every breeze, Cudjo's father and mother 
had built a comfortable residence of sticks and other suitable 
things — without doors or windows, stairway or roof, to be sure, 
but amply large enough for the whole family, and as complete 
as any crow could desire. 

The cotton-wood tree was not far from Marcy's, and was 
admired by the children as well as the crows. Under its broad 
shade they spent much time playing and watching the move- 
ments of the crow family. 

The first thing that came to disturb the happy life in the tree 
was a railroad. Deep sorrow fell on the children when they 
heard the sad news that the great tree was to be cut down, and 
fears were entertained for the safety of the noisy little family on 
the top branch. 

But no one could help them, so the children stood mournfully 
around while great gashes were cut into the heart of the fine old 
tree, shaking its leafy crown with every blow. 

At the first alarm, papa and mama Crow, after flying around 
a few times, became alarmed and flew away, making noisy 



64 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

complaint. When at last the tree fell with a terrific crash, 
the children hurried near, to see about the family in the nest. 
Alas ! every crow baby — except one — was killed by the fall. 

That one was Cudjo, and Ralph carried him carefully home. 
It must be admitted that he was not particularly attractive. 
He was nearly all mouth, there being only enough bird attached 
to open it frightfully. He was too young to be afraid ; he had 
not learned that he was a crow, and that people were his deadly 
enemies. 

His only feeling at that time was hunger. Ralph was deter- 
mined he should not starve, so he fed him three times a day, a 
whole ^^g each time. He would drop the raw ^^^ into the big, 
open mouth, there would be a gurgle or two, when it would be 
swallowed, and the bird would be satisfied for awhile. 

On this food Master Cudjo grew rapidly, and before long had 
a fine, glossy, black coat of his own, and was promoted from the 
^^'g to a meat diet. He had his meals with the dog, but he 
most enjoyed taking dinner with the family, when he would take 
his place on the table and help himself to anything he chose. If 
one tried to drive him away, he would bite their fingers, and if 
too much annoyed, he would snatch a knife or fork, and fly away 
with it. When he did this, the thing was lost, for he never 
returned till it was completely hidden. 

He soon learned his name, and would come when called, un- 
less it was Patty, the cook, who spoke. He always had a 
suspicion that her intentions were not friendly, for she some- 
times swept him out of the room with a broom, an insult that no 
crow cguld be expected to endure. When she called, therefore, 
Cudjo would walk out with great dignity. 

He seemed to have a desire to improve his mind, for often, 



HE FLA YS A JOKE. 65 

when a book was left on the table near the light, he would take 
his stand by it, and look it over in the most serious and earnest 
manner, as though absorbed in deep study. 

He was fond of Marcy, and would follow her everywhere, like 
a dog, catching her dress, and trying to play with her, but to his 
young master he gave the whole of his crowish heart. He 
delighted to sit on his knee or shoulder, and poke things into his 
pockets, rub his glossy head against his cheek, and in every way 
show his warm affection. 

One day, after a good deal of poking and fussing, he left 
between Ralph's vest buttons a two-dollar bill. Perhaps there 
is never a time when two dollars would not be a convenient 
present for a boy to receive, but this time it was peculiarly 
appropriate, for, strange to say, Ralph had been loudly lament- 
ing for some days that he could not join a certain society for 
want of money. Where Cudjo found the bill they never could 
discover, though they inquired of all the neighbors. 

With all his solemn manners, Cudjo had some fun in him, and 
could appreciate a joke. One day, when he had no particular 
business on hand, he happened to see a man in a neighboring 
garden at work. He had a broad-rimmed straw hat, and Cudjo 
evidently thought here was a chance for fun. He flew across 
the field, and alighting on the rim began running round and 
round the man's head. 

Naturally the surprised laborer put up his hand to drive him 
off, when Master Cudjo pounced on his fingers, and resumed his 
ring performances. Again the man tried to shake him off, and 
again his fingers received a nip that was not agreeable. At last 
he ran for help, crying wildly that a crazy bird was on his 
hat. 



66 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

As soon as help came near, Cudjo quietly flew up into a tree, 
with an air that said as plainly as words, " Well, what are you 
going to do about it ? " 

Another day an organ-grinder stopped near the house, and 
began to grind out his doleful music. Cudjo didn't care much 
for that, but the man carried a monkey dressed in red coat and 
cap, and this queer-looking object attracted his earnest atten- 
tion from the first. 

He turned his head one side and then the other, to see if his 
eyes had not deceived him, and plainly could not decide to what 
species the strange animal belonged. He looked on quietly, 
however, till the poor little monkey took off his cap and made a 
low bow. That seemed to the bird a personal insult, and quick 
as a flash he swooped down, snatched the offensive cap, and flew 
into a tree. 

Neither scolding nor coaxing could ever induce him to give 
up anything he had once taken, so the family paid the angry 
organ-grinder for the cap, and the monkey went off bareheaded, 
though I don't suppose he felt bad about that. 

He turned the laugh one day on some young sportsmen who 
came into the neighborhood to shoot. Cudjo was enjoying the 
fresh air on the top branches of a tree, when he saw a gun pointed 
at him. Now he was not afraid of a gun, of course, but he prob- 
ably thought a mistake might be made, for he deliberately flew 
down, and alighted directly on the gun-barrel, to the amaze- 
ment and almost horror of the hunter, who had never before 
seen a bird come out of a tree and give himself up in that way. 
To drive him away was now the desire of the man, for Cudjo 
enjoyed the joke, and refused to leave his perch, defending 
himself with his strong bill against all attempts. 



MORE JOKES. 67 

He had strong likes and dislikes, and taking offense at a young 
lady spending some days at the house, he resolved to play her a 
trick. One morning there was a great hue and cry through the 
house. Uncle John, an elderly gentleman, also a guest, had lost 
his false teeth ; they had been stolen from the bureau, and the 
house was searched without success. Cudjo meanwhile sat 
grimly on top of the book-case and heard all the noise, but 
he only perked his head on one side, and looked saucy as 
usual. 

At last the loss was laid to him, as was every loss in the house, 
generally with good reason ; the turmoil subsided. Uncle John 
was attended in his own chamber, took his breakfast with a 
spoon, and sent for a dentist, while the young lady dressed for 
the street and started out on a shopping expedition. 

At the first place she stopped, wanting something from a 
small satchel she carried, she pulled out her pocket-handker- 
chief, and, to her horror, there rolled on to the counter, before 
the astonished eyes of the clerks, the missing set of teeth. 

How they stared, and how she blushed and stammered an 
explanation, you can imagine. She hastily gathered up the 
obnoxious object in her handkerchief, stuffed it into the satchel, 
and hurried back to tell her mortifying story and scold Cudjo, 
who took it very calmly, dressing his feathers and peering at her 
excited face, with an occasional low ^^ caw," when a reply seemed 
to be expected of him. 

Not more agreeable, though perhaps less distressing, was the 
joke he played on a dandyish young gentleman who failed to 
win his stubborn heart. Sauntering down the street one day in 
faultless dress, and black shiny hat on his curling scented locks, 
the young gentleman felt something dangling over his ear, and 



68 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



carelessly putting up his hand to remove it, took hold of some- 
thing smooth and slippery, which, to his surprise, squirmed. 
Regardless of everything for the moment, he snatched off his 




IS HE REALLY ASLEEP? 



hat, and there, hanging down from the lining, was a small green 
snake, which, of course, naughty Cudjo had stuffed into that 
snug hiding-place. Shaking out the snake and putting on his 



MISCHIEF TOO, 69 

hat, the young dandy, with a very red face, hurried home, and 
Cudjo, with his usual calmness, received another scolding. 

As for the dog, it was always war to the teeth between them. 
When awake, the bird kept out of his reach, though he would 
now and then swoop down and snatch away a tempting bit of 
meat, which he would eat himself or hide away in the house, 
perhaps between the frame and mattress of a bedstead, where it 
would not be seen till its odor caused a close search. 

But when the dog took a nap, Cudjo was happy. He would 
go about the sleeping monster in perfect silence, peering into 
his house, and carrying off every bone in it. Now dogs are fond 
of bones to gnaw, even when the meat is gone, and to him this 
was a serious loss. 

Sometimes the dog would bury the bones he wished to keep, 
but that did not help him, for those bright, black eyes were 
always on him, and no sooner did he go to sleep than the bird 
would dig up the coveted objects and bury them in a new place 
where their owner could not find them. 

Another enemy lived in the chicken-yard. It was a savage 
cock, who ruled the fowls with a rod of iron. Every feathered 
creature on the place stood in awe of him — except Cudjo. He 
seemed to regard it as his business to take the conceit out of the 
crowing fellow. Many and severe were the fights between them, 
but Cudjo always came off victor, and at last the brave cock 
owned his master, and would run the moment he saw his black 
tyrant coming. 

There was something else in Cudjo besides fun, there was 
mischief. One day Uncle Karl brought into the house a thick 
photograph album, with places for large pictures. This seemed 
to trouble the Crow, who apparently thought the holes ought to 



70 QUEER PETS AT MARCY' S. 

be filled, and that he must do it. He never shirked a fancied 
duty, so one day he was very busy, scarcely seen about the 
house, and not till Ralph went to feed the rabbits was it sus- 
pected what important business had so occupied him. To his 
grief Ralph found his whole family of little rabbits killed, and 
skinned, and gone. 

Of course he knew that Cudjo was the guilty one, but where 
he had buried the bodies was not known for a day or two, till 
some one opened the new photograph album. There, between 
the leaves, in the holes kept for pictures, were found the unfor- 
tunate rabbit babies, sticking the pages together, and, of course, 
utterly ruining the book. 

He seemed to especially hate all little creatures. He would 
go into the poultry-yard and kill chickens, and the family were 
often called out by cries and squawks of indignant hen-mothers 
who rebelled against having their chicks carried off before their 
eyes. His great delight was to fish in a little pond in the yard. 
It was full of minnows, and so shallow that Cudjo could stand in 
it and not drown. There he would take his position and catch 
fish by the hour, hiding the bodies, as usual, some under the 
eaves of the rabbit-house, and some in water-pitchers in the bed- 
rooms. In fact, one could never know where he might find a 
dead fish. 

The fun he had in this pond came near being the cause of his 
death ; for, knowing nothing of deep water, he once alighted in 
the middle of a stream. He could. not rise, and was struggling, 
and would have drowned, but some boys who saw him went out 
in a boat and rescued him. 

Cudjo was always ready for mischief, but there was one day 
of every week in which he was worse than usual, and that was 



''DOUGH DAY." 71 

" dough day." It was Friday, and got its name from the fact 
that on that day no market was held in town, and Cudjo could 
have no fresh meat, so had for dinner a piece of dough. 

He would take it and fly up into a tree and eat it, but he did 
not enjoy it, and he was always cross after it. ^'As cross as 
Jim Crow on dough day," was a family byword, for though his 
name was Cudjo, he was often called Jim Crow. 

The worst fault of poor Cudjo remains to be told. He was 
what is nowadays tenderly named a kleptomaniac ! that is, he 
had an intense longing to carry off for his own use anything 
that struck his fancy. Being strong and quick, he generally 
succeeded, though the only object seemed to be to hide it away. 
He had the real miser spirit of hoarding. The neighbors all 
feared his ever-ready beak, and if he came into a house through 
door or window, no one ventured to touch him. Every one 
stood back while he hopped around and took whatever he chose 
— a thimble, knitting-needle, piece of money, or silver spoon — 
and carried it off to his hiding-place. 

One day, poking about the bureau in Mrs. Raynor's room, 
he took a fancy to pull the pins from the cushion. Scolding 
did not stop him, so she rose to drive him away, when, quick 
as thought, he seized three new neckties that Mr. Raynor had 
just brought home, and flew out the window with them, and of 
course they were never seen again. 

For a long time it was not known where Cudjo hid his treas- 
ures, but one day one of his mounds was found under the piazza 
and dug up. Should you like to know what a crow would con- 
sider worth hiding away so carefully ? These were a few of the 
things : 

A six-bladed knife, a rosary blessed by the bishop (belonging 



72 QUEER PETS AT MA PC VS. 

to a servant), some copper cents, a glass eye from the stuffed 
owl, a small china dog from the mantel, bits of glass from a 
kaleidoscope, a few silver spoons, a fine-tooth comb, and a gold 
ring. A fine variety, surely. 

The object most offensive to Cudjo was a negro, and his 
hatred was fully returned. They would go barefooted about 
their work, and their black feet aroused him to fury ; he would 
peck them unmercifully. 

One little colored boy, who had to come into the yard for 
water, and whose heels were a never-failing temptation to the 
bird, thought he would be revenged. So he and his brother 
stole Cudjo, and carried him home. He was not missed, for he 
did now and then go off for a day or two ; but one evening an 
old negro woman was seen coming toward the house, with a 
big bundle of what looked like old clothes. 

When she reached the steps she began to unroll the package, 
and from the middle of it hopped out the lost bird. He was all 
ruffled up and very indignant, as was also Ralph when he heard 
the story of his being stolen. The boys had found him too 
much for them. He would only sit on the fence and cry " Get 
out, Jim Crow," which he could say quite plainly, and bite any 
one who came near him, till they were glad to send him home 
to get rid of him. 

He was generally cunning enough to keep himself from hurt, 
but once he made a dreadful mistake. He saw some beautiful 
red things in the kitchen, that the cook seemed to prize, and he 
determined to have one. He watched his chance, and suddenly 
pounced on one, swallowing it in an instant. It was a red pep- 
per, and it was not long before the poor fellow saw his error. 
It began to burn inside, and he became uneasy, and then flew 



HIDING THE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. 73 

around as though he was crazy, squawking and gasping, and at 
last fell quivering into a corner as if dead. 

He received no sympathy from Patty, who remembered the 
many bites he had given her. 

'' It's good fur yo ! good fur yo ! " she said between her laugh- 
ing, ''yo done fool yoself." 

He got well after awhile, but he was now five years old, 
and his career drew near its close. His last piece of mischief 
was one of the most provoking, and was against his warmest 
friends — the children. 

It was Christmas morning, and the roguish fellow found his 
way into the room where the children's stockings hung full of 
presents. Here was something out of order, which Cudjo felt 
himself called upon to straighten. He deliberately emptied the 
stockings, and hid everything in them, some here, some there, 
but fortunately, since the doors were closed, all inside the 
house. 

Great was the disappointment when the naughty trick was 
discovered, and most thoroughly the house was searched, but it 
was two weeks before the last missing article was found. 

Not long after this, Cudjo fell a victim to his own curiosity. 
He found a lot of soft cement, which he ate up. Of course it 
hardened inside him, and put an end to his mischievous life; but 
his bones were carefully wired up, and added to Uncle Karl's 
museum in the den. 







TWO GREY BABIES. 



BABIES THAT WOULDN'T EAT. 



75 



CHAPTER SIXTH. 

TWO GRAY BABIES. 

One day Ralph ran into the house from school, in great ex- 
citement, holding in his arms two little gray-coated creatures 
about as big as kittens, and with their eyes tight shut. He had 
bought them with a new knife that his uncle had given him, but 
knowing how soft was Uncle Karl's heart toward all animals, he 
did not hesitate to make the purchase. 

He triumphantly announced that they were baby foxes, and 
he was going to bring them up tame. That was very well, but 
the thing was to make them eat. He tried them with every- 
thing, the most tempting bits of meat, the softest bread, the 
sweetest milk. 

They would move about as if seeking something, but not a 
bit would they eat, and Ralph went in distress to his mother, 
who laughed at his tale of woe, and advised him to see if Abby 
wouldn't adopt them. 

Now that very morning one of the usual calamities had be- 
fallen the promising young family belonging to that wise cat. 
She had gone to breakfast, leaving six of the loveliest kittens in 
her basket, and on her return had found but one. After seeking 
them awhile she calmly made up her mind that it was just 
as it had always been, and so resigned herself as soon as she 



76 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

could, though she moped some, and came up to her mistress 
with a long story of her griefs, told in cat language of course. 

Ralph now hastened to her basket, and beside the one forlorn 
kitten laid the two little foxes, and waited for the cat to return. 
In a few minutes she came to see after her baby, and was evi- 
dently surprised to see the strangers. She looked, and smelled, 
and after a moment's hesitation settled down beside them, and 
began to lick them as if they were kittens. 

The children were delighted, and so Madam Puss brought up 
the gray babies with her own, treating them exactly as she did 
the kittens. When they were big enough to eat them, she would 
bring in a bird or a mouse for dinner, and the little foxes always 
had their share. 

They were named Faust and Marguerite, out of a book Marcy 
and Ralph found in the library, and became great pets in the 
family. 

When they grew bigger they began to hunt for themselves, 
and now they showed, for the first time, the wild fox blood. 
They passed by birds and mice, and began on chickens, Faust 
bringing into the house one of Doctor Dot's precious babies. 
This was too much, and Marcy, their best friend, begged that 
they might be shut up. 

They were put into an old dry-goods box which had no top, 
and stood under a tree in the yard, and there they stayed 
awhile. Puss would jump in and feed them, but one night the 
naughty babies dug a hole under the box, got out, and ate up 
two more chickens. 

Now, indeed, something must be done. So a house was made 
like a dog-house, and the two mischievous foxes were chained to 
it. Chains were unknown in the cat family, and now Abby 




PLAYING LIKE KITTENS. 



78 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

began to suspect that she had been imposed upon, and that her 
foster-babies were rather queer. She still carried mice to them, 
but if they were impertinent at all, she would box their ears 
smartly. 

They didn't mind the slaps though ; they would dance around 
her as if she had invited them to play. Still they hadn't for- 
gotten how nice chickens were to eat, and they soon learned 
to twist the chain around till the snap gave way, and off they 
would go to the woods, or to a neighbor's poultry-yard. Marcy's 
chicks were safely shut up at night. 

They were fond of their home though, and would always be 
there at daylight, asleep in their house, and ready for the break- 
fast Ralph would bring. He thought he would end their night 
pranks, so he fastened the chains to their house with stout 
staples. But the next time the wild fit seized them, they 
gnawed the wood around the staple till they could pull it out, 
and away they went, the chains at their heels. 

Ralph always knew, the moment he saw them, whether they 
had been out. If they had, they would lie quietly in the door- 
way, looking very sheepish indeed, with paws crossed and heads 
resting on them, whereas if they had not been out, they would 
come out to meet him, wagging their tails in welcome. 

They had fine times with the dog, whose house was near theirs. 
They would play together, and bark, and have regular frolics, 
never quarreling at all, but always in the friendliest way. The 
poultry they were fond of, naturally ; but the wise mother-hens 
never responded to their advances toward friendship. In vain 
would the foxes scatter corn in front of their door and lie down, 
looking as innocent as two lambs. The knowing fowls would 
daintily pick around the edge, but carefully keep the length of 



THE FOX FLA YS JOKES. 79 

the chain between them, and every chick was taught to do the 
same. 

Faust was full of fun, and delighted in playing jokes on Cudjo. 
He would lie quietly on the ground and gently wag his tail. 
Cudjo always regarded this as an insult, and furiously he would 
pounce upon the offending tail. Then Faust would wheel and 
seize the Crow by a wing, while he squalled and screamed with 
terror. It was only a joke, however, and in a moment Faust 
would let him go, when he would fly up into a tree, scolding and 
smoothing his ruffled feathers. 

He could hardly be blamed for playing a joke now and then, 
for, after all, life was very dull compared to the life of their wild 
relatives. No wild animal makes a more comfortable home, or 
takes better care of her babies than the mother-fox. She has a 
cosy, warm house in the ground, out of the reach of dogs and 
other animals. 

The door of this house is carefully hidden under the roots of a 
tree, or among rocks, so it will not be easily seen. Next to the 
door the watchful mother has her vestibule, or reception-room 
you might call it, where she lies and looks out to see if any one 
comes near. Beyond this is a passage, eight or ten feet long, 
opening into a store-room where food may be kept. 

At the very last end of the house is the nursery, where the 
pretty little snub-nosed babies stay, till big enough to come out 
and play around the door. Every fine evening they may be 
seen — if one is careful enough to draw near without alarming 
the extremely wide-awake mamma — playing like so many kit- 
tens, and even inducing their dignified mother to join in the 
fun. 

It is a pretty sight, and worth the trouble it costs. But by 



8o 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



and by it comes time for baby foxes to go to bed, and for 
mother to go to market. Night is of course the best time 
for marketing, for then her enemies — men, boys, and dogs — are 
sound asleep in their houses. 




COMING HOME FROM MARKET. 



Towards morning the mother almost always brings home a 
rabbit, a chicken, a goose, or sometimes only a field-mouse. 



THE CROWS DECEIVED. 8 1 

Whatever she brings, the family have to eat for breakfast, and 
then all go to sleep for the morning. 

As time goes on, and the babies grow, the loving mother 
begins their education, for she wants them to be the wisest and 
most cunning of their race, and nothing can be more cunning 
than a fox, unless it may be a crow. 

She teaches them how to get food, to crawl on the ground 
quietly, so as not to alarm a flock of geese or chickens, till near 
enough to catch one. If it is rabbit they want, she shows them 
how to save the trouble of digging out one of their long bur- 
rows, by following the scent above-ground with their keen noses, 
till they find out where the nest is, and then digging directly 
down on the family. 

Then, if food is scarce, and they must fish, she teaches them 
to plash in the water, and when the curious little fish come to 
the surface to see what's the matter, they may be snapped up. 

But the hardest thing they have to learn in getting food, is 
to catch that wily fellow, the crow, for even crow is better than 
no meat. This Mother Fox does by making bait of herself. 
She lies down in plain sight, stretched out as if dead, eyes shut, 
tongue hanging out, and looking dismal enough. 

Then she lies perfectly still, till a flock of crows come by and 
see her. Clever as they are, they are completely deceived by 
this ; they cannot believe that so knowing a creature as a fox 
would lie down in an open field, in sight of enemies, unless it 
was dead. So they fly around a few times, for dead fox is 
good meat to crows, and at last they alight all about and over 
her, when up she will spring, and seize ocs or two before they 
can get away. 

But there are other things for little foxes to learn, since for 



82 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

hundreds of years people have deHghted to hunt their race. 
They must know how to avoid traps, to get the meat and not 
be caught, and to get away from their worst enemies, men and 
dogs. 

The mother teaches them to be wary of any strange object, 
especially if there is a string or a wire about it, or the scent of 
a human being. She shows them how to dig under the bait, 
and pull the meat off the wrong way, when the trap or the gun 
may go off, but catch nobody. 

To cheat the dogs she shows several tricks, for dogs are as 
keen of smell as a fox itself. One way is to run on a fence or 
rock, and then take a tremendous leap to one side, so as to keep 
the enemy hunting for the scent till she has time to get away. 
Another is to make them run in a circle, as over and under a 
jutting rock, where she will run several times till the scent is 
very strong, and then leap one side, leaving the dogs to follow 
their noses round and round for half a day. 

One of the most cunning tricks she teaches them, is to get 
away from a man if they do fall into his hands. She deceives 
him as she does the crows, by playing dead till he gets careless 
and throws the supposed dead body on the ground, when she 
hastily comes to life, and runs as she never ran before. 

Learning all these things, the days pass quickly, and life is 
merry and happy to the little gray babies in the green woods. 

But our two friends at Marcy's, though they lost the training 
needed by wild foxes, never missed it, for being fed every day 
they had no need to hunt, and in fact only did so for fun, as 
people do also ; and not being afraid of men and dogs, they had 
no need to learn how to avoid them. To be sure they lost the 
wild free life of the woods, and spent many weary hours chained 



THE NEIGHBOR WAS AT HOME. 



83 



up; but then they never knew the terror of a pack of fierce dogs, 
and a dozen or more men, with horses, in full chase, all after 
their one, solitary, poor, little, bushy tail ! 

But what became of Faust and Marguerite? 

Well, they came to a sad end, as those who are fond of mis- 
chief are apt to do. Once too often they visited a neighbor's 
poultry-yard, and that time he was there himself to welcome 
them. 

They never came back. 




ON THE HUNT. 



84 QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 



CHAPTER SEVENTH. 

LIVE TOYS. 

Nothing made the children so unhappy as to see, in their 
visits to the city, that unfortunate class of dogs known as ladies' 
pets. Dogs brought up in drawing-rooms, fed with a fork upon 
the daintiest food, washed, combed, and curled as often as a 
baby. Dogs that sleep on satin and lace cushions, in half-covered 
*' dog baskets," and take the air in their mistress' or her maid's 
arms, dressed in blanket and shoes, and sometimes wearing col- 
lars set with diamonds. Dogs that travel in a '^ dog's satchel," 
and have in every way their natural life distorted to please the 
taste of people. 

Some of the smaller of these creatures are called — very prop- 
erly — "toy dogs," and you may find it hard to believe that 
there have been real living dogs that were only three inches tall, 
when they were two years old, and of course full grown. 

It is not uncommon to see in the Park, or on a fashionable 
street, an elegant private carriage, with fine horses and liveried 
servants, slowly passing along, and in the carriage, sitting up on 
the seat alone, a dog — often an ugly-faced bull-dog, or a snub- 
nosed pug — out for his morning's airing. 

One day Marcy saw a carriage of this sort, but the dog, ele- 
gantly dressed in overcoat buttoned at the neck, with " gold 




UNFORTUNATE PETS. 



86 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

collar and bell," was apparently not yet toned down — or up — to 
the perfection of " deportment " expected of drawing-room dogs. 
He did not sit up properly, but resting his forepaws on the edge 
of the window, was looking out, with envy in his eyes, at the 
happy vagabond dogs in the street, who ran about at pleasure, 
stepped in the mud if they liked, gnawed a bone and enjoyed it, 
and never slept on a velvet cushion. He was just as doggish in 
feeling as they, but he was a prisoner, in chains of silk. 

Tip is a happier dog than those city pets, for although he is 
petted he still has his own doggish ways, or he would not be 
interesting enough to have his story told. 

His name is Tip Tatters, and he is called Tip, or Tat, or 
Tatters. He is a wise fellow, and understands talk as well as 
anybody, as he shows by his intelligent looks, and doing the 
thing that is suggested quietly, and not in the loud, ordering 
tone usually considered appropriate to dogs. 

Sometimes he is told to go and see if Marcy is in the yard. 
He will start off on a furious run, scamper to the corner of the 
house where he can see the yard, give one glance, and then run 
back, wagging his tail and almost speaking. 

He is fond of barking at strangers, and one day he heard the 
gate shut and started off at the top of his speed, barking like 
mad. The visitor, though a stranger to him, had heard of Tip, 
so, as he came tearing at her she said warmly, as though de- 
lighted to see him, 

*' Why, Tip Tatters ! how are you ? Aren't you ashamed to 
bark at a friend? Come and see me. Tip." 

Tip understood. He evidently thought he ought to know one 
who knew him so well, and the look of shame and perplexity 
that came over him was funny to see. His tail dropped, his 



TIP AND THE FLANNEL DOG. 8/ 

mouth closed, and very meekly he trotted into the house be- 
hind her, crawled under a chair, and refused to be coaxed 
out for some time. 

Tatters has made himself special policeman of the yard, 
and plainly considers it his business to keep the peace ; so 
whenever he sees two cocks fighting, as those quarrelsome fel- 
lows delight to do, he at once pounces on them, and separates 
them, dragging them away, and forcing them to behave them- 
selves. 

Never was a child more fond of play than he. He has his 
toys like anybody, and when Marcy goes out she generally 
brings him something, a ball, a rubber ring, or animal. He has 
a regular place for his toys, and will bring them out or put 
them back when told to do so. 

The one he likes best is a flannel dog, made by a friend, and 
given to him. At first he seemed to think it was alive, and a 
rival, for he growled and barked furiously at it. But finding 
that it was a meek little creature, and never talked back, he 
grew fond of it, and began to lick it, as he would have done to 
a young dog, jumping about it also, and from that moment 
regarding it as his choicest plaything, though he never seems 
to be quite sure that it isn't, after all, more alive than it pre- 
tends. 

When the flannel dog is put on the table. Tatters will jump at 
it and bark, coaxing it to come down and play, and at last, get- 
ting impatient, he will leap up and pull it off, lie down with it 
and cuddle it in his paws, or challenge it to a frolic. 

One day Tip was naughty. He had notions about his dinner, 
preferring cake, or something rich, to the food that was given 
him. After coaxing in vain, Marcy took the flannel dog, and 



88 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 




saying that 
if Tip didn't 
want his 
dinner, Dog- 
gie should 
have it, 
placed it be- 
fore the dish 
with its head 
to the food. 
Tip looked on a 
moment in surprise, 
then began to fear 
he should lose his 
meal, hesi 
tated 



TIP AND THE FLANNEL DOG. 



THREE DOCTORS TO ONE DOG. 89 

then sprang to the dish, and fairly gobbled it down to the last 
crumb. 

Though Tip cannot talk, he can make himself understood as 
well as if he could. He specially hates to be left alone, and one 
of the family always has to stay at home with him, for if he is 
in the least lonely, he will howl and cry till they are glad to 
come back and devote themselves to his amusement. 

He has been taught to cry in polite society, on occasions 
when he naturally desires to howl, for instance when he is hurt. 
It is the drollest sound, between a whine and a growl, showing 
his teeth, and uttering a sort of '' E-e-e-e " quite unspellable. 
Once Marcy stepped on his foot by accident, and he at once ran 
to another of the family, holding up his foot and crying bitterly. 

He was of course pitied, and he went around the house till 
every one in it had sympathized with him. Even the next 
day, when one said to him, ^'Tatters, did you get hurt?" 
he burst out into a wailing '^E-e-e-e," holding up the injured 
foot. 

Once Tatters was ill, and the excitement in the house could 
hardly have been greater if half the family were so. He had 
three doctors ! The truth is, he had been a little greedy, and 
his food disagreed with him. He began by moaning and crying 
like any child. Uncle Karl had a ''dog book;" so he got it 
out, studied up the case, went to a drug store to have some pills 
made up, and gave him two before he went to his studio. 

In those pills was morphine, though the family did not know 
it, and soon the Dog began to act very strangely. He lay with 
his eyes half open, trying to go to sleep. Suddenly he would 
start up and bark furiously, then sleep coming over him, he 
would drop his head again. 



90 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

He did not appear to know the family, who stood around him 
in distress. He was evidently ''out of his head," and he looked 
so queer they were afraid of him. Marcy went into the den to 
see if she could find out what medicine he had taken. There 
was the box of pills, marked POISON, and two were gone ! 

Horror ! Tatters was poisoned ! 

A few shrieks rent the air, and the nearest doctor was sent 
for in haste. Fortunately he was fond of dogs, and he very 
good-naturedly came to see what he could do. He gave the 
Dog some more pills, and went away. 

Before long. Uncle Karl, getting anxious about his little pa- 
tient, came home to see how his pills had worked, and heard the 
dreadful story of Tip's conduct. He was struck with horror. 
If he had killed Tatters he should feel like a murderer. He 
hurried out after another doctor, a friend. 

The two did what they could for some time, and then the 
physicians, disliking to have the responsibility of such a pet, 
advised them to send for a regular animal doctor. He came, 
and the three worked over poor Tip all the afternoon. At night 
he was out of danger, but as limp as a dog could be, and it was 
weeks before he was well and strong as before. 

I can't tell you the end of Tatters' story, because it hasn't 
ended yet. He is now in full strength and health, as fond of fun 
as ever, and likely to live many years. 



BABIES THAT NEVER CRY. 9 1 



CHAPTER EIGHTH. 

THE QUEER FAMILY THAT LIVED NEXT DOOR. 

One day in the summer, there came a queer family to live 
next door to Marcy's. The children felt the deepest interest 
from the first, and kept close watch to see how they lived and 
what they did, and even searched in books for their history. 

That seems somewhat rude, I must admit, but this is so very 
queer a family that they don't care a bit, and in fact never take 
the least notice of anybody, so it cannot be considered gossiping 
if I tell you what the children found out. 

In the first place, there is no father to the family, that any one 
could discover, and the mother herself doesn't live at home, 
though she worked hard to make it, in the neatest and most 
comfortable manner. 

The truth is — and that's one of the most curious things about 
it — nobody lives there, except a large family of babies, each one 
locked into a room alone, with food enough to eat till it is 
able to take care of itself. 

They are nice, quiet babies, and they never cry, but simply 
eat and grow as fast as they can, till the food is gone, and they 
are full grown. Then they wrap themselves up in a silk quilt, 
each one by himself, and go to sleep for awhile. 

But I must tell you about the strange mother, and how she 

built her own house beside the country road. She is a grace- 
6 



92 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

ful, pretty creature, dressed in violet blue, with yellow trimming. 
But, nice as she looks, and careful as she is of her children, she 
is rather a savage little person, and always carries a sharp dag- 
ger, which she is apt to thrust into any one who disturbs her. 

Perhaps you have seen her, or one of her family, for she has 
cousins all over the world. She has, of course, a high-sounding 
name in the books, but her common name is all the children 
cared for ; it is Mrs. Sandwasp, and she is not much more than 
an inch long. 

When she was ready to build her house, she looked about till 
she found a sunny bank of soft sandy earth, and then she went 
to work with all her strength. Perhaps I shouldn't say build 
her house, since she does not exactly build, she digs. A quiet, 
dark nursery underground is what she wants for her babies, and 
that she quickly made with her own sharp jaws, which you may 
think are curious tools to work with. 

When she had finished a cozy, little, oval-shaped room, ready 
for a wasp baby, she shut the door very carefully by piling bits 
of sand and stone before it, and went off to get food for the 
baby to eat when it came out of its egg-shell. She closed the 
door, because, you must know, the Sandwasp family have an 
enemy, called Madam Ruby Tail, who is too lazy to make her- 
self a house, yet wants her babies to have a comfortable home. 
She admires the house the Sandwasp makes, and so she is 
always looking about for one, and if she finds a door open, she 
will be sure to go in and lay one of her own eggs snugly away 
in the house. When the little mother-wasp comes back, she 
does not notice the strange Qgg, but puts the food and her own 
Q.gg in, and when the baby Ruby Tail begins to eat, it first of all 
devours the baby Sandwasp beside it, and then the food its 



HO IV SHE KEEPS OUT THIEVES. 93 

mother provided. It is to keep this naughty thief baby out that 
the Sandwasp so carefully shuts the door. 

Madam Ruby Tail herself is a great beauty. Her dress is of 
the most brilliant blue or green, and fiery ruby color. But there 
is an old saying that " Handsome is that handsome does," and 
looking at her in that light, she is far from being beautiful, for 
she and her whole family are parasites : that is, they do not 
feed their own young, but put them where they may steal, as I 
have told you. 

Now what sort of food does the wasp baby have ? The mother 
herself eats honey and tree-sap, but she knows very well that 
such delicate food will not do for a growing youngster. So she 
provides meat, and the way she manages to have it keep fresh, 
and yet not be able to run away, or to hurt the little one, is a 
wonderful thing. 

First, she goes out to hunt it, and she prefers a certain sort 
of a caterpillar. When she finds one that suits her, she first 
stings it in some strange way, so that it will not die, yet will be 
helpless and stupid as long as it lives. You needn't feel sorry 
for the caterpillar ; it does not suffer — at least so say those who 
have watched them closely. 

After finding the meat, the busy little mother has to drag or 
carry it home, and that is often a long and hard operation. 
However, she never gives up, and at last she reaches home, find- 
ing the door without trouble, though it is so small, puts the 
caterpillar into the nursery, and again shuts the door, or rather 
walls it up, for she knows the baby will not want to come out 
for awhile, and will need only to have its enemies kept out. A 
lady — Mrs. Swisshelm — has already told how one that she saw 
did this : 



94 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

" First she got a little stone and fitted it nicely over the hole ; 
then brought smaller stones, and built them all neatly around 
the edge, like a mason making a wall. When any stone did not 
fit into its place to suit her, she would lay it as well as she 
could, then walk backward, rush up and strike it with her head 
to drive it into place. Sometimes she rushed at one stone and 
struck it several times before she got it firm enough to suit her 
ideas. The first time she would, may be, not go backward more 
than an inch ; but if that did not do, she went farther, so as to 
get more force, using her head as a man would a mallet to drive 
a wedge. When the wall was finished, she wheeled around and 
began scratching like a dog, throwing fine dust backward on her 
new wall to fill up the cracks." 

In this way the hard-working mother goes on, till she has pro- 
vided homes and food for her whole family, and then she goes 
away. I suppose she returns to eating honey till she dies, or 
perhaps drinks the sap from some tree till she loses her senses 
and falls to the ground, as her family are said to do. 

But what happens to the babies in their funny little nurseries? 
Well, when they come out of their shells they are not neat little 
sandwasps like their mamma, but fat grubs, or larvae, as they 
are called, and they care for nothing but eating. No matter 
that outside their little dark rooms are sunshine, and sweet 
fresh air, and flowers ; eat, eat, eat is all the greed}' creatures 
care to do. 

After stuffing themselves till they are full grown, and nearly 
as big as their mother, though so different in shape, they at last 
have enough, and each baby wraps itself up tightly in a silk 
cover, which it spins for itself, and goes to sleep — or any way 
keeps very still, while its pretty wings and its six legs grow, and 



THE SPIDER RUNS EOR HIS LIFE. 95 

it changes from an ugly fat grub to a lively Wasp like its mamma. 
Some bright sunny day in the spring, out of every one of these 
snug nurseries will come a pretty creature, and fly away to 
eat honey and build houses like its mother. 

Some of the little wasp mammas lay up other food than cater- 
pillars for their babies. One that lives in France prefers spiders, 
the bravest and most dangerous creature she can find. I'm 
afraid this little mother rather likes to fight ; at any rate she has 
to fight, for the spider has no notion of being made food for 
wasp babies. In fact she likes wasp for dinner herself, and if 
she can manage to throw a few threads over Mrs. Wasp, it is all 
over with the poor little creature. However, the wasp is wary 
and quick, and usually succeeds in stinging Madam Spider in her 
own house, and then, of course, she has only to drag her home. 

I once read a story of a Sandwasp which a gentleman saw on 
a hunting expedition. First he saw a spider run quickly across 
the window-sill, crouching down as though dreadfully frightened. 
He hid under the edge of the sill inside, and in a moment a 
large Wasp flew in and sailed about the room as if looking for 
something. After awhile she settled on the sill, and ran around 
on it, exactly as a dog will try to find the track — or trail — of an 
animal. 

Soon she seemed to catch the trail of the spider, for she went 
at once after him, and probably stung him. He seemed not 
much hurt, and ran away, going one side and then the other till 
at last he went under a bed and hid himself on the frame, below 
the mattress. But the Wasp did not give him up. She ran 
around the floor in circles, as hunting dogs do, and soon struck 
the trail again, when she instantly started upon it, turning exact- 
ly as the spider had turned, and in a moment found him again. 



96 



QUEER PETS AT MARCV'S. 



The spider was not an easy victim ; he ran again, out of the 
room, across a hall, into another, but every time, though the 
Wasp did not seem to see him, she followed his track and came 
up to him. At last he gave up, and rolled himself into a ball, 
when Madam Wasp took him up in her arms (or legs), and pre- 
pared to fly away with him to the comfortable home she had no 
doubt already made. 

There are many kinds of wasps which live alone like the sand- 
wasp, and are called solitary, besides those which live in large 
companies. There is the mason-wasp, who builds her baby 
houses in keyholes, and cracks, and any snug tube she can find, 
making them of nicely worked clay ; and another one, who 
selects the stems of a wild rose-bush, which she hollows out 
and partitions into tiny nurseries, and fills with flies ; and a third, 
who makes a funny row of clay bottles in a line on a twig ; and 
a fourth, who hangs her bafeies up in a clay purse. 

Now isn't this one of the queerest families you ever heard of? 
and are you surprised that Marcy and Ralph spent many an 
hour watching the little house next door, and asking dozens of 
questions about them ? 




A COUSIN OF THE QUEER FAMILY. 



WHAT MARCY BOUGHT OF THE CAT. 



97 



CHAPTER NINTH. 

THE NEW PET THAT ABBY CAUGHT. 

Abby was accustomed to go to a grove near the house, where 
there were many birds, to get fresh meat for herself, and she 
often brought home her prey to amuse herself with for a little 
time before eating it, after the fashion of cats. 

One morning Marcy saw her come over the fence with some- 
thing in her mouth, and she hurried out to see what it was, and 
if it was still alive. She could not quite blame Abby for eating 
birds, so long as we eat them ourselves, but she could see that 
the cat did not torture them. 

This time when she reached Puss she found something quite 
different from a bird, though she could not tell what it was. It 
seemed to be alive, and Abby gave it up at once. Marcy car- 
ried it into the house, having first brought a piece of fresh meat 
to pay for it. 

He was a curious-looking creature, about as big as a mouse, 
and of a reddish color. His tail was a long, bare object, like 
the tail of a rat, with a row of thin hairs standing out on each 
side, as though Nature proposed to make a feather for this little 
fellow to carry. 

When Uncle Karl came home, she carried the strange object 
to him, and he told her at once that it was a baby squirrel. A 
squirrel is a very amusing pet, and the children were of course 



98 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

delighted to have one. But the first trouble was to keep him 
from starving to death. He would not drink, and Abby had no 
kittens to share their dinner with him, as in the case of the fox 
babies, besides being perhaps not quite a safe foster-mother, 
since she had caught him for her own use. 

At last, after much talk, mamma laughingly suggested that it 
might be brought up on a bottle, and Marcy at once thought of 
something. 

Marcy, you must know, was fond of dolls. Though she did 
not play with them now, being rather too tall, she still 
cherished all her old dolls, and one drawer of her bureau was full 
of them, of all sizes and kinds, carefully dressed and laid away 
with their own belongings. 

Now Uncle Karl was fond of a joke, and on her last birth- 
day, stepping into a shop to buy something to carry home to 
her, he saw a funny new toy among the dolls' treasures. It 
was a small '' feeding-bottle," exactly like those used for babies 
to drink from, and of doll size. The bottle was about three 
inches long, the rubber tube as many more, and the mouthpiece 
at the end perhaps as big as a baby's little finger. 

This was too good a joke on a doll lover to be lost, so after 
buying a pretty writing-desk, he added the bottle to the pack- 
age and took it home to her. It was so cunning that Marcy 
didn't mind being well laughed at, but laid it away in the 
drawer beside the big Japanese baby doll, which was so natural 
and baby-like that people seeing it in one's arms thought it was 
a live baby. 

It was this bottle she thought of now, for the Squirrel baby, 
and she at once ran upstairs and got it, filled it with warm milk, 
and put the mouthpiece into the orphan's mouth. Ah ! this 



A DOLDS BOTTLE PUT TO USE. 99 

was a success ! In two minutes he had made a good supper, 
and was fast asleep in a small basket of cotton, which had been 
arranged for him. 

There was no more trouble now about feeding Nip — as he 
was named. He had his bottle as regularly as any baby, and 
very funny he looked, hugging it up to him with his little paws, 
and drinking away for dear life. 

He was not a lively pet at first. Squirrels are sober and 
dull in the cradle, and frisky in old age, which is different from 
most creatures. To roll himself into a tight ball, with his ridicu- 
lous bare tail wrapped around himself, was his great delight, 
next to hugging his bottle. 

But he grew fast, and it was not long before his fur was thick 
and long, and his tail bushy and fine, and he frisked about like 
any wild squirrel. So lively and sudden were his movements, as 
he skipped from one thing to another, that it seemed as if he 
must fall and break his neck. But if he did make a misstep, he 
would spread out his legs and broad tail, come down in a sort of 
flying position, as though he did it on purpose, and alight quite 
safely on the floor. 

He was a wary little fellow, and though perfectly tame so that 
he would run all over people, he did not like to be caught. If 
any one tried it, he would run with a sort of a gallop, quick as a 
flash, across the room, and behind a book-case or bureau, or, by 
way of the sofa and a picture-frame, to the top of the book- 
shelves, or window-frame near the wall, where he would turn and 
look at the clumsy attempts of his pursuers, and " laugh in his 
sleeve " no doubt that one should dream of putting a hand on 
him. 

The nest of a wild squirrel is made in the fork of a tree, where 



lOO QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

it is almost impossible to be found. It is of leaves, moss, grass, 
and other things, woven into a ball, and in this cozy home three 
or four little squirrels may be found every summer. By the 
time they are big enough to work, nuts and acorns are ripe, and 
the whole family is busy laying up food for winter. 

Every day, from morning to night, the pretty little creatures 
may be seen gathering nuts from the trees, letting them fall as 
they cut them off with their sharp teeth, and then running down 
and carrying them off, one or two at a time, to hide in some safe 
place where they may be found when needed. 

Though so shy and quick to scamper aAvay, squirrels would 
not be much afraid of us, if they were not hunted and frightened. 
Uncle Karl told the children an interesting story of one of the 
cunning little fellows whose home was in the Adirondacks. It 
happened the summer before when he was up there to fish and 
rest. 

One day he was crossing a little lake in a boat with a guide. 
They noticed in the smooth water a slight ripple which went 
out each way from one point, where stuck up a small brown 
nose. 

*' I wonder what that is," said Uncle Karl. 

'^ That's a squirrel," answered the guide. *' I've seen lots of 
them crossing lately." 

The little fellow was laboring hard, with nothing to be seen 
but his nose, and he seemed to be getting tired. Uncle Karl 
suggested to the guide that he should hold out an oar to him, 
and see if he wouldn't like a rest. 

Jack — the guide — held out a dripping oar, and said hospitably, 

" Come aboard, old fellow. You may have a ride, and rest as 
long as you choose. We're friends, and you shall not be hurt." 



A CONFIDING SQUIRREL. lOI 

Whether he understood English, or trusted Jack's honest face, 
or was too tired to go further, he did not tell, but he did accept 
the offer. He seized the oar, mounted upon it, and dragged his 
wet bushy tail after him to the boat. He rested a minute on 
the edge, then ran up the guide's arm, over his shoulder and 
down the other arm, and finally settled himself on the farther 
edge of the boat. 

He was a pretty fellow, with sleek red coat and bright black 
eyes, and he at once began to dry himself, warm his toes, dress 
his fur, and refresh himself generally. Meanwhile Jack had re- 
sumed his rowing, and the boat and the talk went on, without 
disturbing the little wild passenger in the least. After sitting 
awhile, he ran about a little more, and at last plunged off and 
went on with his voyage. 

Squirrels are easily tamed, and are amusing pets, and very 
happy ones too, unless they are shut up in a cage. They are 
ardent lovers of liberty, and they must have exercise. So true 
is this, that they will even gallop for hours in those hideous turn- 
ing cages for the sake of it, though, if allowed to spend their 
energy running about, they would be a thousand times more 
entertaining. 

Marcy's pet, Nip, soon grew too old for baby food, and tried 
his sharp little teeth on acorns and nuts. He never missed a 
meal, but always took his place on the table, where he would 
help himself to anything he liked, then sit up, curl his long tail 
against his back, take the lump of sugar, or whatever it was, in 
both little paws and nibble away. 

He was very tame, and accepted pockets as his special nap- 
ping places. Whether in a garment hanging on the wall, or 
traveling about on some one's back, made no difference to him, 



I02 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

he would curl himself into a round ball and go to sleep at 
once. 

From the top of his light little head to the tip of his toes, he 
was full of fun. When he got into a real frolic — which he was 
always ready to do at a moment's notice — one needed to look 
out for frail things. He would go over and behind everything — 
on the mantel, over the picture-frames, on top of a door or win- 
dow, behind the bookcase, under the sofa, or up in the folds of 
the curtains. 

Hunt him out of one place and there would be a flash of red 
fur, a scramble of little claws, and Master Nip would look out 
at one saucily, from another safe place. If the frolic began in 
the kitchen or the green-house, great was the fun. He could 
hide all day on the pantry shelves, and clatter the pans and the 
dishes enough to drive cook crazy, and in the green-house would 
be a rustle of leaves, a shower of blossoms, and a general up- 
setting of small pots. 

One day when on a mad frolic in the green-house, the little 
fellow slipped into a pipe for carrying off water when the plants 
were watered. To his surprise and joy he found it an open 
door to the outside world. One flash and he was out, and 
scampering for the grove where Abby had found him. 

There Nip spent the rest of his life, and there the children 
often saw him. He would come down from a tree when called, 
and cautiously take a nut or a lump of sugar, but on the slight- 
est movement to catch him, he would be off in a twinkling. He 
never ate on the ground, but would carry the gift away up in 
the top of a tall tree, where no doubt he had a nest of his own. 

I have read of a Squirrel which was taken from its nest in 
England and made a household pet. When he was brought in, 




NIP AT HOME IN THE GCOVC. 



I04 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

a sorry little bundle of reddish fur, he did not know how to eat, 
and his mistress had the same trouble that Marcy did, till she 
provided a curious feeding arrangement. It was the stem of a 
clay pipe. 

The pipe was drawn full of warm milk, with the mouth, one 
end put into the Squirrel's lips, and the milk blown down his 
throat. He began to be brighter, and soon grew very fond of 
his pipe. He ate so much that they tried to wean him from it ; 
but no, the pipe he must have, or he would starve. After many 
attempts he was coaxed to drink milk held in the hollow of a 
hand, and from that cup only would he take his meals. 

He was full of frolic as other squirrels as he grew up, and did 
so much mischief that at last it was decided that he must have a 
house of his own, where he could be shut up. A mansion was 
built — of wire, and very large, larger than a big dog's house — 
and in this Master Tiny was shut up. The house was comfort- 
able, but it was a prison, and the little fellow did not like it. 
When he found that he really could not get out, he came to the 
front of the cage, and standing on his hind feet, began to swing 
his body and fore-paws back and forth in such evident misery 
that some tender heart would open the door for him. 

One day, when thus let out, he crawled under the edge of his 
big new house, perhaps to hide away for a nap, and there he was 
found — dead. There was mourning in the family, and poor 
little Tiny was buried with honor in the garden. 

Though squirrels are among the prettiest creatures in the 
woods, and they would seem deserted enough without them, 
much complaint is made of the mischief they do. It is said 
that they drink sap from the sugar-maple trees, cutting the 
twigs with their teeth, and catching the sap as it runs out. For 



' A CURIOUS FIGHT. IO5 

my part, I think there's sap enough for squirrels as well as for 
us ; and if there is not, perhaps their claim to it is as good as 
ours. 

Then they are said to eat the eggs of birds, and even the 
young ones. Even that seems rather absurd to complain of, 
while every man that owns a gun, and every boy that can throw 
a stone, is at liberty to kill any number of birds they choose, 
without even the excuse of wanting to eat them ; excepting, 
of course, the few which are called "game," and protected part 
of the year. 

Cunning as the squirrel is, he doesn't always get away with 
the eggs he desires. Many birds are able to protect their own 
homes against him that cannot prevent human robbers from 
emptying their nests. A curious fight was once seen between 
a Squirrel, who wanted thrush eggs for breakfast, and the mother 
thrush, who did not approve of the plan. 

He drew near the nest in the most cautious way, running 
along under the branches so as to be hidden, and stealing qui- 
etly up, intending to spring into the nest, snatch an ^^%-, and get 
back again before he could be touched. But the missel-thrush is 
a particularly fierce bird, and not at all averse to a bit of a fight 
herself, and the first thing that outraged mother did, was to 
knock the egg-lover off the branch, so that he fell to the 
ground. 

Very much surprised looked the Squirrel, as though that was 
the first time he ever had a tumble. But that was not enough 
for the enraged Thrush. Before he recovered his spirits she was 
upon him. She pounced on his back and beat him with her 
wings, and pecked with her bill, screaming all the time, no doubt 
calling him all sorts of names. 



io6 



QUEER PETS AT MA PC VS. 




much for him — wings are a 
great advantage. She did not 
meet his fists, but pounced 
on his head, and again he 
had to run. Three times be- 
fore he reached his tree did 
she attack him so furiously 
that he had to sit up and de- 



The amazed Squirrel ^^^^^J 
replied by a furious 
scolding, and there was a vio- 
lent scufifle among the dead 
leaves for a moment. Then 
he got away, and ran up an- 
other tree, but she was after 
him, and drove him down 
again. He ran a few feet, 
and then planted himself in a 
good place for a fight. It was 
an angle made 
by the roots of a 
tree, where he 
could have h i s 
back protected. 

There he took his stand, sitting up 
like a kangaroo, and pawing and boxing 
with his two hands. 

But Madam Thrush was even then too 







PUNISHING A THIEF. 



SQUIRRELS IN THE PARK. 



107 



fend himself. When he did reach it, he ran up like a flash, and 
in a moment got to the top branches, but everywhere the furious 
mother followed him. 

She would swoop down on him and try to knock him off the 
branch ; he would dodge and spring to another branch, and she 
would pounce again. So she followed him a long time, the 
gentleman who tells the story keeping near them all the time, 
though they did not notice him. At last the bird left him, and 
went back to her nest, and there she sat muttering to herself, 
and arranging her ruffled feathers for a long time. 

The half tame squirrels of the Boston Park are accused of 
being too fond of fruit seeds. It is said that one squirrel will 
pick and break open seventy-five pears in a morning, to get the 
seeds. If this is true, perhaps it is because they are not well fed, 
for in a Memphis Park, where they have lived for twenty years, 
there is no such complaint. They are fed every day, and they 
know their breakfast bell as well as you do yours. They are so 
tame they run all over people, take nuts from the hand, and sit 
on shoulder or knee to eat them. 

These squirrels live in boxes in the trees, and the babies can 
come to the ground when they're two months old. 




FOOD FOR THE SANDWASP BABIES. (See PagC 95.) 



1 08 Q UEER PE TS A T MAR CY '5. 



CHAPTER TENTH. 

A GENERAL WHO LIVED IN A BOOT. 

A BOOT is a curious home, I must say, and it is not the usual 
residence of the little General's family. A hollow tree, or some 
similar snug spot is preferred by those of the family who live in 
the woods, but this particular fellow was born in a pretty white 
cottage in the yard, and in every way his life was different from 
the lives of his wild relatives. 

His mother was a pretty little Opossum, dressed in a suit of 
shaggy gray fur, and being caught alive by some one who knew 
the love of pets at Marcy's, was given to her, to add to the 
family menagerie. 

The wild creature soon felt the influence of kind treatment. 
She became very tame, and finding how nice it was to eat with- 
out the trouble and danger of prowling about for her food, easily 
gave up all idea of returning to her home in the woods. 

She was an amusing pet, but sometimes, when teased, she had 
an unpleasant odor, which made her not always welcome in the 
house. Marcy named her " Mrs. Johnson," and made her a nice 
home in an old beehive, among the branches of a tree in the 
yard. 

That is how my hero came to be born in a cottage, for he was 
the son of Mrs. Johnson, the only one who survived his baby- 
hood. 



EIGHT BABIES. IO9 

A few days after Mrs. Johnson went to live in the Beehive 
Cottage, Marcy discovered that she had a family of babies, all 
snugly packed away in the nursery. Perhaps you know that the 
nursery of baby opossums is a sort of fur bag on the under side 
of the mother's body. Like other little folk, they spend the 
first weeks of their lives in that warm place, doing nothing but 
eat, and sleep, and grow. They have more growing to do than 
most infants, for they're not an inch long at first, and they are 
unusually helpless for four-footed babies, being not only blind, 
like little kittens and puppies, but deaf also, both eyes and ears 
being closed for many days ; and worse still, they have no signs 
of a warm fur coat like their mother's. 

Well, Mrs. Johnson's babies stayed in the nursery till they 
were four or five weeks old, and big enough to look about a 
little, when they began to come out now and then, and take the 
air at the cottage door. There were eight of them, and they 
were named after eight famous American generals. There were 
General Buel, General Fremont, and others, and, most important 
of all. General Grant, who, like his great namesake, survived 
when other generals went down. 

They were an interesting family, though their greatest delight 
at that early age was to hold on to something by the tail, which 
was scaly and bare of hair — even in the mother herself. Marcy 
often hung several of them by their tails to a lead pencil, and 
carried them all about the house in that position ; droll enough 
they looked, too, as you may imagine. The mother's way of 
carrying them about, after they were too big for their warm 
fur cradle, yet not quite old enough to go alone, was on her 
back, where they would cling with sharp claws all together, and 
make a curious-looking family party. 




SHOT CAME JOYFULLY TO MEET THEM. 



A MYSTERIOUS FRIENDSHIP. m 

But about this time in my story something very unusual hap- 
pened at Marcy's ; the whole family went away for a week, and 
the house was shut up. The pets, which must have food and 
care every day, were scattered among the kind-hearted neigh- 
bors ; but all who could take care of themselves were left at the 
house. Among the latter were Mrs. Johnson and her family, 
who were left in the Beehive Cottage, with — for their only 
neighbor — the dog, Shot, with whom I regret to say, Mrs. 
Johnson had many a quarrel. 

When, after their short absence the family came back, and 
collected their scattered beasts and birds in the neighborhood, 
they found that there had been a catastrophe in the yard. A 
violent storm had swept through it, and the Beehive Cottage 
was a sad wreck. It had been thrown from the tree and to- 
tally demolished, with — as they supposed — the whole Opossum 
family. 

But while the children stood about, mourning for the lost 
babies, Shot came joyfully out of his house to welcome them, 
hungry, but very happy, and, to their amazement, they saw in 
the spot where he had been lying, the only survivor of the John- 
son family. General Grant, curled up in blissful content. 

What had passed between him and the hereditary enemy of 
his family can never be known. Whether, finding wars and 
storms about them, they had decided upon peace, or whether 
the sufferings and helplessness of the orphan had touched Shot's 
doggish heart, no one can tell. However it happened, there 
it was — they were friends. Shot had evidently cared for the 
little General, and their friendship never cooled from that day; 
the little fellow's favorite napping-place was always upon the 
good-natured dog's back. 



112 



QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 



The General was now about the size of a rat, and having sur- 
vived the disasters of storm and hunger, became an important 
personage in the house. Like other people of his age, he was 




THE GENERAL IN HIS NEW HOUSE. 



fed on bread and milk, of which he was fond, was petted to his 
heart's content, and became perfectly tame, much more so than 
his mother had been. 

His first cottage house having been destroyed by the storm, 



HE LOOKS FOR A SOFT BED. 113 

he soon began to look about for another, and found one exactly 
to his taste. It was a cast-off cavalry boot, a relic of the war, 
that hung upon the wall in a room not often used. It was 
reached by its new tenant, by means of an old musket left 
standing near, which made as easy a stairway as any opossum 
could desire. 

Having settled himself in the boot, the next thing to com- 
plete his comfort, was a warm, soft bed. The General was used 
to helping himself, so he never thought of asking, but quietly 
looked about the house, till he found in the room of a young 
lady guest, an article that seemed to him just the thing, and 
carried it off at once. 

It was soft and warm, and could be easily fitted into the bed- 
room of his house. How was he to know that a grown-up lady 
wanted it for herself? It was a thing much worn in those 
far-off, benighted days — a switch of false hair. Its loss made a 
sad gap in the young lady's toilet, until they discovered the 
thief and bought another, since — happily for him — he had ruined 
it for her use. 

The General was happy in his new home, and perfectly good- 
natured in every other part of the house ; but disturb him in 
his private quarters, and all the savage blood of his ancestors 
rose within him. It is said that no men fight so desperately as 
those who defend their homes, and the same is true of many 
animals. The General, when he felt that his castle was at- 
tacked, fully justified his military name. He could not chatter 
and scold, as a squirrel would have done, but he would rush 
to his door and glare furiously upon the enemy, and if within 
reach, would give him a savage little bite, as a warning. 

Everywhere else he was tame as a cat. He went all over the 



114 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

house as he pleased, and wore on his neck, for a collar, a Gen- 
eral's military shoulder-strap, fastened to a ribbon. At meal- 
times, if hungry, he would climb by a convenient dress skirt up on 
the table, and coolly help himself to whatever pleased his taste ; 
and if he saw the cat eating he would quietly walk up to her, as 
if to see what she had for dinner. Now Abby was the pink of 
dainty sensitiveness; she had a great disgust for the odor of 
an opossum, and an equally great respect for his claws, so she 
would always retire when he came near, and he — seeing that she 
had left it — would finish her meal for her. 

This was a little mischievous, and he did some naughty things, 
too ; he gnawed slippers and other articles, and once he nearly 
broke his mistress' heart by tearing to pieces her favorite doll, 
and scattering the bran which formed her internal organs all 
over the floor. Sometimes, too, he would help himself to a 
dinner of young chickens from the poultry-yard. These little 
unpleasant habits of her pet Marcy tried to cure by always 
keeping him well fed. 

Besides young chickens, he was fond of rats, and would hunt 
and kill them more easily than Shot, whose regular business it 
was. One of his greatest delights was to climb a cherry-tree, 
hang by the tail to a branch, pull off ripe cherries with his paws, 
and eat them in that unnatural position, upside down. 

But the little General — like bigger ones — had his ups and 
downs ; he had a fit of sickness, measles, the doctor said. Now, 
whether wild opossums ever suffer from measles, or whether this 
was an unpleasant result of civilization, the fact is the same. 
Poor General Grant was really ill, and the doctor was called. 
He prescribed little pills (which, by the way, he did also for 
people), and the General in due time got well, to the delight of 



THE GENERAL GOES TO A NEW HOME, 115 

the children, whatever the rest of the family, and Abby, may 
have felt. 

Marcy had a great deal of fun with him. She used to dress 
him up in a suit which she made for him, with a standing col- 
lar or a ruff, a ribbon on his neck, and a cap on his head. In 
this dress he would sit up '' like folks " while she fed him with 
his favorite dainties, or spend some time carrying about a small 
doll, also his property. He would take a turn around the toy 
with his useful tail — made to hold on by — and have all four legs 
for other uses. His paws were much like baby hands, and noth- 
ing could be more funny than to see him sitting up, holding the 
food in two little bare hands, and eating like a good child. 

But an end came to these happy times. Marcy went away 
for a long visit, and none of the family wished to take care of 
so mischievous a pet. When Cudjo died, Mamma had declared 
that though she was long-suffering, she could not endure another 
such troublesome creature. So that when Marcy made up her 
mind to go, she had to consent to the loss of the General. 

He was now quite old, for an opossum, and as large as a com- 
mon cat. He could not, of course, be turned into the woods 
to take care of himself, like his wild relatives, for he did 
not know how to do it, and besides, he would not stay. Marcy 
— with tears — gave him up to Uncle Karl one morning, and he 
carried him off to the city, to a pleasant new home he had found 
for him, where pets who get troublesome are always welcomed, 
and are made happy for life. 

It was a Zoological Garden, and there he was left, perfectly 
contented, for he had not an affectionate disposition, and 
never attached himself to anybody in the house ; and for all I 
know he may be there to this day. 



Il6 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

You have heard, no doubt, of the opossum's great trick, 
" playing 'possum ; " and perhaps you know that it is simply 
pretending to be dead. When the animal is caught he will lie 
perfectly limp, and not stir, though handled and thrown about, 
worried by dogs, and even very much hurt. Many wild crea- 
tures do the same, though perhaps none are so obstinate in 
holding out as the opossum. 

Poor little fellow ! in the hands of men, and the teeth of dogs, 
he knows it is his only chance for life, and he will endure tor- 
ture and not flinch. But let his tormentors throw him carelessly 
one side, and when he finds himself free, he will suddenly come 
to life and take to flight. 

True opossums are found only in America. In their native 
woods they spend most of the day in sleep, and at night go out 
for food. Squirrels and frogs, young rabbits or mice, almost 
any bit of meat, is welcome ; but if these are scarce an opossum 
always knows the way to the poultry-yards near 'his home, and a 
young chicken or a nest of eggs makes him a nice supper. 

Meat is not all his food, and the farmer loses something be- 
sides chickens when the opossum goes out to eat. Growing corn 
he is fond of, and if he doesn't want the trouble of climbing 
the stalk, he will gnaw it off near the ground, and when it falls 
over, feast on the sweet ears. All sorts of nuts he likes, too, 
and many fruits, especially persimmons. 

Now in Virginia and other places where the opossum lives is 
a large class of people who almost live on corn, and who also 
delight in persimmons — the negroes. To them, of course, he 
is the worst of thieves, and nothing pleases them better than 
a 'possum hunt, with dogs. They go out on a moonlight 
night. The dogs chase the little fellow into a tree, and the 



r'-T. \ 




MARCO PAULO AND HIS MATE. 



Il8 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

men shoot him or shake him down, and then take him home, 
and pay him for eating their corn by eating him. 

There is a Httle creature in Australia called an opossum, 
though it is not really one, but belongs rather to the vulpine 
or fox family. It is common there, and is often tamed, running 
about the house like a cat. One of the little creatures was sent 
to England, to a lady fond of pets, who named him Marco Paulo, 
after the great traveler. 

When first caught, there were two besides Marco, and they 
were put into a room to stay till the ship sailed. Like all 
youngsters they were fond of play, and their frolics were very 
funny to watch. 

But they were apt to get into trouble, because of a naughty 
trick of eating everything they could get hold of. One night 
they lunched on a box of matches, and the next morning were 
all violently ill. Marco Paulo got well, but the others died. 

When the time came to go to the ship, a wire cage was 
brought for Marco, but he did not like it, and refused to go in. 
In fact, he had to be knocked on the head, before he would give 
up his notions, and enter the new home. 

At the end of the long voyage he was full-grown and tame, 
and his new mistress was delighted with him. He was as big 
as a cat, with a face and ears like pussy's, and of a gray and 
brown color. But his eyes were what won her heart. They 
were of a soft brown color, and gentle and wistful in expres- 
sion. When she lifted him out of his cage, he put his pretty 
little black hands on her arm, and gazed into her face as 
though he would speak. 

She gave him a new house, and often let him run about 
the room in the evening, for that is his natural playtime. He 



A CURIOUS BAG. II9 

would run and scamper over the furniture, while his eyes 
shone like lamps. He ate bread, and also vegetables and fruit, 
but never meat, and he grew tamer and more affectionate all 
the time. 

In the pleasant summer days his house stood under a tree 
in the yard, though he didn't care much where he spent his 
days, for he always curled himself into a ball and slept, till even- 
ing roused him to his play. 

As winter came on, Marco Paulo was taken to town with the 
family, and now spent his time outside the dining-room win- 
dows, and at night had a piece of carpet for a blanket. But his 
mistress feared that he could not endure the cold and damp of 
winter, so she concluded to let him go to live with his wild 
cousins at the London Zoological Garden, though she felt almost 
as badly as though one of the family was going. 

One morning, after she had sent word to the men to come 
for him, there was brought to the house a curious traveling car- 
riage for Master Marco. It was a bag, though not one of the 
common sort. It was made of stout stuff, to resist little claws 
and teeth, and was set full of small eyelets to let in air. Into 
this Marco Paulo was coaxed ; it was tied up and slung over 
the shoulder of the man, and he started on his second journey 
through London streets. 

Some time afterward his mistress went to pay her old pet a 
visit. She found him very happy, in a pleasant cage of his own, 
with a wife and young family around him. She patted him and 
talked to him, and he looked up in the same old way, but he 
was evidently well contented with his new home and friends. 
She did not go again, but wrote his story for a newspaper. 






"^m& 










FRIE]SDS IN THE WOODS. 



A PHILOSOPHER IN FEATHERS. I2I 



CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 

BUB. 

When Bub went to live at Marcy's he was one of the oddest- 
looking objects in the world. Though he was very young, and 
had just come out of an owl's nest, he didn't look in the least 
like a baby, nor was he at all shy. He was a small bundle of 
down, with no feathers where feathers are expected, and the 
wisest look in his face and big staring eyes. 

From the first moment he never seemed to be afraid of any- 
body, nor struggled to get away, as other birds will. Bub was, 
plainly, a philosopher ; that is to say, one who takes whatever 
comes, and makes no fuss about it. 

The first thing he did when let out of the basket in which he 
was carried, was to walk gravely around the room and examine 
everything in it. His manner said as plainly as words, 

" I see this is to be my home, and it may be well to know 
something about it." 

The children were much amused with his sober, dignified 
ways, not in the least like any other young creature, and they 
ran to the kitchen for some supper for him. 

They set bread before him, but he would not eat. They 
thought he did not like bread, perhaps, so they took counsel 
of their own tastes and offered him cake, and then bits of meat, 
and then corn, and then boiled ^gg, and at last Ralph went out 



122 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

and dug up a worm. All to no purpose ; Bub would not look 
at it. 

Now, of course, birds must eat, or die, and the children were 
in trouble at once. Uncle Karl, however, suggested that Mam- 
ma Owl had always fed her baby, and probably he didn't know 
how to feed himself. They must do as she did — fill his mouth 
for him. They at once tried this, with perfect success, and by 
that means Master Bub had a plentiful meal. In spite of his 
wise looks, you see he was really rather stupid after all, while he 
was a baby, for they had to play mother owl, and stuff the queer 
baby for some time. 

They were not exactly sure of what baby owls have to eat, 
so they tried nearly everything in the house, on this one. He 
swallowed everything, and seemed to thrive on it, growing 
very fast, and soon being covered with beautiful soft feathers, 
while his droll ways were more and more amusing. 

Bub's home was in the Den, but since his master spent most 
of his days in the city, he did not stay there much. He roamed 
all over the house, upstairs and down ; into the kitchen, when 
Patty would scream and drive him out ; into the parlor, where he 
would perch on the end of a sofa, and sit there for hours, dress- 
ing his beautiful feathers, or shaking himself out into a soft 
feather ball while he took a short nap. 

He was a sociable fellow, and always liked to be with the 
family. He was fond of sitting on Uncle Karl's shoulder, and 
rubbing his head against his face, as a cat will, and he often 
made quiet remarks, which, though doubtless full of wisdom, 
the hearers — unfortunately — could not always understand. 

Once his sociable ways, and his attempts to make himself 
agreeable, caused quite an uproar. A new servant came into 



A FRIGHT IN THE HOUSE. 123 

the house one night after Bub was shut up, and went to bed 
without seeing him. Before quite Hght the next morning there 
arose a terrible scream, and the new girl burst into mamma's 
room in a great fright. 

She was trembling and so alarmed that she couldn't tell what 
had happened, except that something dreadful was in her room, 
and said something to her. Mamma hurried into the hall, and 
the moment she opened the door she knew who was the culprit. 
There, on the foot-board of the bedstead, sat Bub, looking as 
calm as the morning, and as innocent as a lamb. He croaked 
his good-morning, and the girl had to admit that his was the 
voice she had heard. 

When Bub was full grown, he was provided with a house of 
his own. It was two stories high, and he spent the daytime in 
the bedroom upstairs, after the fashion of owls, and at evening 
he came down ready for a frolic, or an excursion round the 
neighborhood, where he did a little hunting for himself. 

He was fond of his house, and he had a queer fashion of keep- 
ing it neat, by sweeping it out with his wings. But he did not 
live there many months. One night he went out hunting and 
never returned. Whether he found friends in the woods and 
decided to stay with them, or whether some one shot him, was 
never known. 

The children grieved sadly, and put away his house, hoping 
some time to have another of his family to pet. At one time 
they had so strong hopes of it that they got the old house all 
ready, for Uncle Karl had a present of one of the same species 
as Bub. The new-comer, however, was full grown, and rather 
wild, so he decided to keep him awhile at his office in the city, 
till he could be tamed. 




FULL GROWN AND WILD. 



HE WOULD NOT BE TAMED. 1 25 

But taming was not for this creature. He was savage as a 
tiger, and no amount of fond or kind treatment had any effect 
on him. Perhaps his temper had been soured by troubles, for 
he evidently thought everybody his enemy. If one came near 
his cage he would throw back his ears like an angry cat, and hiss, 
and his eyes would glare as though he would like to eat them. 

If they attempted to touch him, he would fling himself on 
his back and hold up his terrible talons ready to tear any one to 
pieces. He was kept for some time in the hope that kindness 
would at last conquer him, but one morning when Uncle Karl 
reached the office, he found that the wild creature had hurt 
himself badly in trying to tear away from his chain. So he de- 
cided to give him his liberty after all. 

His door was opened, and the window of the office also, the 
chain was removed, and the owl was free. Shaking himself to be 
sure that the good news was true, the savage bird tried his wings 
and then launched himself out into the morning air, taking his way 
up Broadway, as all the world were coming down at that hour. 

Owls are funny, because they are so grave, and scarcely ever 
afraid of people. An English lady, who had one for a long time, 
tells his story in a newspaper. 

When he first came to her he seemed so sad and unhappy that 
it almost brought tears to her eyes to look at him. She made 
him a cradle of a basket with a cover, and he spent much time 
in it, except at night, the very time when other people want 
cradles. Then he would stamp around the house, with such a 
heavy step that she could not sleep. 

He was never young, and from the first looked so old and 
strange that she named him Pharaoh, and fed him on brandy 
and water from a teaspoon, to cure a cold he suffered from. 




PHARAOH. 



AFRAID OF A CALF. 



127 



He was fond of going all over the house, climbing the stairs, 
perching on the foot of a bed in a chamber, or the back of a 
velvet chair in the parlor, or the top of a door in the library. 
He would sit for hours and plume his feathers, and make a sort 
of singing noise. 

He was a pretty fellow, with soft, dove-colored feathers 
brushed back from his face, and his large, wise-looking eyes, 
and she became much attached to him. He took long journeys 
with his mistress in the cars, and he made long visits at strange 
houses. Everywhere he was at home and friendly, either in 
a station-house, a conservatory, or wherever he was put. 

Only once or twice in his life did Pharaoh lose his calmness 
and get frightened, though he looked at everything with the 
greatest interest. Once a calf ran up to him, and he was so 
scared that he plunged into a tub of water. Sometimes, too, he 
would be afraid of a horse, and would run up his mistress's arm 
to her shoulder, which he considered his stronghold, or nestle 
under her jacket, and hide a long time. 

He delighted in a bath, and best of all, a good shower. He 
would sit in the rain till he was soaked, and the most draggled- 
looking bird you can imagine. Then he would spend a long 
time in drying and arranging his feathers, and come out more 
beautiful than ever. 

At first Pharaoh lived in a stable loft, with a summer bower 
in a wisteria vine, for he was never caged. But after awhile he 
was moved to a small house, where lived some bantam chickens. 

This pleased him, and they were always very friendly, unless 
a chick took the liberty of perching on the spot he had picked 
out for his private use. Even then he only put it out, without 
hurting it. 



128 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



As the weather grew colder, a new family came live in the 
poultry-yard — a family of guinea-pigs. They had a warm house 
in a barrel, with a door to keep out wind. Pharaoh took notice 
of the cozy house, and concluded to move. 




The pigs did 
not object, and 
after that he 
cuddled in the 
straw with them, 
for though owls 
don't usually 
''cuddle," he was 
A SLIGHT LUNCH. wise enough to 

know that it is 
best " when in Rome to do as the Romans do." 

This civilized bird lived on birds and mice, which other peo- 
ple caught for him. Birds he would take in one claw, pull off 
mouthfuls with the other, and feed himself like any baby, and 



THE FUNNIEST OWL, 1 29 

a beetle he would take in one hand and eat like a sweet cake ; 
but mice he swallowed whole, with many jerks of his head. He 
would often sit with eyes half shut, in happy contentment, and 
the long tail of a mouse hanging out of his mouth. 

His hearing was very sharp, and he liked to sit in the window, 
watching things in the street. He would turn at every foot- 
step, and he had his opinions, too, for he made little remarks to 
himself at anything strange, and when . he broke anything he 
would talk a long time, in the most troubled manner. 

What finally became of Pharaoh his mistress does not tell, so 
we shall have to leave his fate in mystery. 

Perhaps the funniest owl in the world is the little fellow who 
lives in the western part of our country, and is called the Bur- 
rowing Owl, though it is well known that he never burrows if he 
can find an empty house to go into. 

Until lately this owl has been thought to be a regular mem- 
ber of a queer family that I shall tell you about soon — the prai- 
rie-dog family, and you have perhaps seen pictures of him, quite 
at home, with puppies and rattlesnakes all about him. 

But closer study of his ways has proved that the owl contents 
himself with a deserted house, though often the entrance may 
be by the same door. 

The truth is that the prairie-dog town is all out of sight, only 
the doors are outside. Underground there are many crooked 
passages, leading every way. Dr. Coues, who has written about 
it, says it is not unlike the plan of Boston streets. 

The streets, of course, are all public, and all the prairie-dogs 
help to make them, but here and there are cozy nooks which are 
private residences, and into one of these he is sure the owl 
never goes while a family is in it. Sometimes a whole village is 



I30 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

deserted by the dogs, and there will be found a great colony of 
owls. 

Whatever may be their family relations, the owls are droll 
little creatures. They delight to sit in the doorway, in the posi- 
tion of making a speech. They gaze about calmly, and seem to 
be in a brown study — like other owls. But suddenly, if any one 
comes near, they will make a low bow, then jerk back and begin 
to twitch the face and roll their eyes in a queer way. 

Dr. Coues says they " gesticulate wildly, now and then bend- 
ing forward till the breast almost touches the ground, as if to 
give more effect to the argument ; then face about to address 
the rear, and drawing up to their fullest height, pause as if to ob- 
serve the effect on the audience, then suddenly turn tail and 
dive into the hole." 

Sometimes they sit outside all day and think, at least they 
seem to be thinking, for they sit like statues, gazing with great 
staring eyes on nothing, and not moving for hours. 

When engaged in these deep studies, he happens to be in the 
doorway, and a prairie-dog wants to pass him to go in, he is 
much annoyed at being disturbed, and I regret to say he uses his 
sharp beak in a very unpleasant way, making her wait till he 
chooses to move. Nearly always, however, they have no quar- 
rel, but live very peaceably in the same town. 

At night the owl is quite another fellow. He then goes out 
after his food, flying about, with his soft feathery wings, so 
silently that it seems as if he was blown by the winds like a 
thistle-down. This soft flight, of course, does not frighten the 
sharp-eared mice, which the owl hunts for his dinner. 

The owl babies are tucked away in one of these cozy nests 
underground. They are odd little things, sometimes as many 



OWL BABIES. 



131 



as six or seven in a house, and they chatter and squeal about 
the door when big enough to go out. 

One would think they must be glad enough to get out, too, 
for the mother owl isn't a very neat housekeeper. She— like 
some people— delights in getting together all sorts of old rub- 
bish, and hoarding it up carefully in the house, and they do say 
she isn't always careful to clear off the dinner table, and remove 
the scraps. 

This owl does not hoot. He has a cry like the American 
cuckoo, but when one is caught he will give a hoarse scream. 

They do not like to be caught, and if wounded they run for 
the door and dive in, so it is very rare to catch a Burrowing Owl 
alive. 




THE FUNNIEST OWL IN THE WORLD. 



132 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER TWELFTH. 

A HOME ON THE PRAIRIES. 

I MUST tell you now, about the little creature who makes the 
house where the owl delights to live, and save himself the 
trouble of building — or digging — for himself. 

It is the Prairie-Dog, found only on our wide western prairies, 
where he makes a warm and cozy, though perhaps rather dark, 
home underground. The house itself has but one room, with 
a hall long enough for a prairie-dog palace, if the little fellow 
had need of such a thing. 

They are pretty, little, red-coated animals, about the size of 
a cat. The Indians call them the Wish-ton-wish, but we discard 
that pretty name, and call them dogs because they bark, though 
they are really no more dogs than Puss herself. In fact, they're 
more nearly related to the squirrel family. 

They are sociable, and live in regular villages of their own, 
where hundreds of families are near, and they can enjoy visiting 
and chatting together as much as they like. 

Curious-looking villages they are, like the mud huts built by 
savages, and very small. The odd thing about it is, that the 
little huts are not the houses, but the earth taken out in build- 
ing, and it seems to be left in that shape to make an observa- 
tory for each family. 

On the top of the mounds they perch themselves, sitting 




THE INDIANS CALL THEM WISH-TON-WISH. 



134 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

up to see what's going on in town, learn the news, and watch 
for enemies. They have many enemies, for they carry good 
'* meat " on their bones ; and a prairie-dog makes a welcome 
dinner dish in many a four-footed family of the prairies. 

Perhaps the most troublesome enemy is one small enough to 
get into the house, yet large enough to insist on staying there, 
if he chooses, and even to help himself to one of the babies for 
supper — a genuine vagabond he is, too. 

This is the rattlesnake, who carries on the end of his tail a cu- 
rious rattle, which he delights to shake. Not for fun — don't fancy 
it ! — but for a warning, to get out of his way or he will bite. 
Whoever hears that polite notice to leave, is usually very quick 
to do so, whether he has two feet or four. This handsome 
rascal is a nice person to have in the house, isn't he ? Like it 
or not, the poor little prairie-dog has to submit, and happily, 
he doesn't seem to care much about it. 

Prairie-dogs are found all over the West, even where it is 
so cold that nothing grows but grass and the sage bush, a shrub 
so strongly flavored with sage that few animals will eat it ; and 
where it is so bleak that for six months they are obliged to stay 
in their warm houses or freeze to death. 

Even here the hard-working little fellows manage to live, by 
turning hay-makers, and putting away a stock of food for win- 
ter. While the grass is plenty and the sun warm, the careful 
prairie-dogs cut great quantities, and spread it out to dry. 
When it is cured they carry it into their houses, both for warm 
bedding, and to eat, and people have seen them doing it. 

Some writers say that prairie-dogs never drink water. Let- 
ters have been written to the newspapers, and much talk been 
raised about it. Other people insist, that although they drink 



AMUSING AS PETS. 135 

when tame, when wild they do not, and still others declare that 
prairie-dogs always drink, and moreover, that they even dig 
wells for themselves. 

Digging a well is not more wonderful than many things done 
by these little creatures, and there's no reason why it should not 
be done ; but it is certain that no case of well-digging has 
been proved, so that will, perhaps, be one of the things that 
grown-ups will leave for you youngsters to find out some day. 

Prairie-dog babies are easily tamed, and are amusing pets. A 
story is told of one who went to live in a house when he was 
two months old. He was a wise little fellow, and learned very 
easily, especially where the cake-box was kept. 

Like most two-footed young people, he was fond of cake, and 
also, like some of you, he soon found out how to teaze. He 
would go to the door behind which was the dainty he wanted, 
and there he would sit up and beg in his native language — 
which sounds to us like a bark — and refuse to go away, or to 
be disturbed, till the door was opened and he got the cake. 

If he had been a child, so that he could be talked to, he 
would, of course, have been told how very, very naughty this 
conduct was. 

Though he spent much time in the house, he had his own 
notions of a home to really live in, so he dug for himself a nice 
prairie-dog residence under the big house. But he was always 
within call, and his master had only to knock on the floor and 
call his name, when he would answer by a bark, and at once 
come up to the room, jump on his friend, and run up to his 
shoulder, showing his pleasure as plainly as a dog will. 

He was fond of the dogs, would play and romp as they did, 
and when tired, jump onto the lounge, and stretch out for a nap. 



136 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



He was generally amiable, but when teazed too long he would 
snap at his best friends, and he came at last to a sad end, by 
means of a strange dog. 

Another story of a family of pet prairie-dogs, was told by a 




^^ ^: 



AT BREAKFAST. 



lady in a newspaper some time ago. She started her village 
with six or eight of the little creatures. They were turned 
loose in the front yard of the house to build for themselves. 
They made their homes and brought up their funny little 



DROLL PRAIRIE BABIES. 137 

ones, and when she told the story there were about twenty of 
the droll prairie-babies, which played and gamboled like kittens, 
and were as amusing to see. 

The whole family were tame ; they knew their mistress well, 
and would run all over her, nibbling the buttons of her dress, 
and snuffing about for crackers or cake. But they did not fancy 
strangers, and always kept a watchman out to see that no 
enemy came near. 

The watchman was always one of the wise old dogs, and he 
would sit up like a statue, watching with his sharp black eyes. If 
any one came near, he would give a jerk with his tail and a 
short, sharp bark, which meant ''look out," and every frolicking 
little prairie-dog would take to its heels, and scamper to its 
home like a flash, diving into the dark hall with a funny 
flourish of feet, and whisk of a short tail, and instantly whirl 
and stick out its head to see what it was all about, any- 
way. 

They were extremely fond of crackers and cake, but a ginger- 
snap they abhorred. At first they tasted it, as their mistress 
gave it, but in a moment the ginger began to burn, and they 
were furious. They scolded and chattered, no doubt using very 
hard words. They slapped their own faces and went away very 
much offended, refusing to eat at all. 

One naughty thing they did, they quarreled at the table. 
Nothing looked quite so tempting to them as the morsel some 
other dog had taken, and so on that unfortunate fellow they 
would pounce, five or six of them scrambling over him, and all 
tumbled up in a snarl, though there was plenty of food for all 
of them. 

Sometimes when the youngsters were too greedy, or forgot 



138 QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

the respect due to their elders, they had their ears boxed by 
their mamma, and were sent away in disgrace. 

There was one good thing about them ; they were not easily 
discouraged. No prairie-dog was ever known to whine and say, 
" I can't." I don't believe that cowardly word was in their 
language. When they made up their minds, they did not easily 
change them. Sometimes this was troublesome, and led to a 
sort of war with the people who fancied they owned the whole 
family. 

At one time they made a new house, in a place which their 
big neighbors wanted for their own use, so it was decided to fill 
it up, and let the prairie-dogs build elsewhere. The war began, 
and no doubt the small family laughed behind their fur coats at 
the notion that they could be forced to move. 

The contest seemed rather unequal. A big human family, 
with arms and tools in plenty, on one side, and a little prairie- 
dog family, not a quarter their size, with nothing but teeth and 
claws, on the other. So it was unequal, but the advantage was 
not on the side you would suppose. Not always the biggest wins. 

War was opened by flooding the offensive house, a steady 
stream of water being forced into it for a whole day, and then fill- 
ing it up with gravel and sand, pounded down and made very 
hard. The family went to bed, thinking they had settled that 
matter. 

So did not think the small people outside. No sooner had 
the enemy left, than they went to work, tooth and nail. By 
morning the house was open as usual, with a big pile of wet 
sand and gravel beside the door. 

'' Ah, ha ! " said the enemy, " we'll see about this ! Next time 
you'll not find it so easy, Messrs. Prairie-Dogs ! " 



THE LITTLE ONES BEAT. 



^9 



So the cunning people prepared a quantity of heavy wire, 
bent into odd shapes and coils, and altogether of most unman- 
ageable form. This they packed tightly into the passage-way, 
filled up with gravel as before, and went to bed in triumph. 

" Now we shall see ! " said they. 

And they did. The next morning, to their disgust, they saw 
the house open as before, and the babies having a fine frolic 
with the wires. 

The third time is sure to succeed, thought the enemy, who 
scorned to be beaten by such little creatures, so they laid their 
plans deeply, and brought materials that they were sure no soft 
little noses could endure to touch, jagged and rough-edged pieces 
of tin, and ugly-shaped blocks of wood. These they packed and 
wedged in, till it seemed that nothing less than an earthquake 
could dislodge them. 

However they did it, the persevering little fellows came out 
victors, and the war ended. The house continued a favorite 
residence, from which the dogs cleared away the snow in win- 
ter as carefully as they had the earth in summer, and the con- 
quered people had to make the best of it. 

It seems to me that a bit of a moral has smuggled itself into 
this story somewhere, but I haven't time to hunt it out. 










THE MOST TROUBLESOME ENEMY. 



I40 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. 

A JUMPING MOUSE. 

The cat, as I told you, was a hunter, and always took care to 
supply her kittens with fresh meat. When Marcy saw her come 
in from the yard she always looked to see what Abby had 
brought, and, you remember, one of her dearest pets, Nip, was 
taken from her mouth. 

You know cats have a fashion of playing with their prey for 
a while, before they eat it, and one day, when Abby was thus 
playing with a mouse she had caught, Marcy was surprised to 
see the half-dead creature give a jump to get away. 

Now mice do not jump, they run, and Marcy at once went 
over to see what it was. Puss was astonished, too, at the queer 
conduct of the mouse. She sat in a dazed sort of way, looking 
as you might look if a piece of beef should jump off the platter 
and hide. 

But Marcy saw where it went, and in a moment she had it, 
for it was too much hurt to get far away. It was a curious 
little animal, much like a mouse, yet of a prettier brown color, 
with white on the under side of the body, and white stock- 
ings. 

It had short little forelegs, but very long hind legs, which 
explained the jump, and a tail twice as long as its body. Pert 



NURSERY UNDER GROUND. I4I 

little ears, and black eyes and whiskers, gave its little face a 
most knowing look. What it could be she did not know, but 
she put it in an old bird-cage, and went to the big books in the 
Den to see if she could find out what it was. 

Uncle Karl had showed her how to use the books, and she 
was beginning to find them very interesting. Now she spent an 
hour or two with them, and decided, partly from the pictures, 
that the new capture was a Jumping Mouse. When her uncle 
came home and saw it, he said at once that she was right, which 
pleased her greatly. 

She made great efforts to keep it alive, prepared the softest 
of beds, and the choicest food, but the poor little thing was so 
frightened, besides being hurt, that it did not live, and Marcy 
found it dead in the cage the next morning, to her great re- 
gret. 

Uncle Karl tried to console by telling her about the jump- 
ing mouse, showing a picture of it from his Blue Sketch-Book, 
and finally telling a story about one, which I'm sure you'll be as 
pleased to hear as were Marcy and Ralph. 

In the first place, he is one of the country cousins of the brown 
mouse that lives in our walls, though he prefers the woods and 
fields for a home, in which it must be admitted he shows good 
taste. The nursery made by the little mother is a cosy place 
under the ground, perhaps under a clod that has been turned 
over by a plow, or by a fence, or a brush heap ; but wherever 
it may be placed, it is not more than six inches below the sur- 
face, and there she places three or four babies, funny little 
atoms of things, so small that a postage stamp would make a 
good blanket for one. 

About these mouse babies there is only one thing specially 







THE JERBOA, THE JUMPING MOUSE'S NEAR RELATIVE. 



THE JUMPING-MOUSE BABIES. 1 43 

interesting, and that is the way their mother carries them off, 
if she is frightened and wants to hide with them. Let one dis- 
turb them when all together, and away goes Mamma Mouse in 
great leaps with all four babies hanging fast to her, two on a 
side. No matter how long her jumps, or how far she goes, every 
little mouse holds on for dear life till a safe hiding-place is 
found, and she can rest. It is a curious sight, you may be 
sure. 

I spoke of leaps, and the leaps this little creature can take, 
are something wonderful. She gets her many names from that 
fact. Ten or twelve feet at a jump is nothing unusual for her 
to do, and when you remember her size, you will see how tre- 
mendous that is. Think of a common mouse jumping the 
width of a good-sized room at one spring ! 

She does not always go leaping about. When not startled, 
or in a hurry, she runs on all four feet like any mouse, and all 
through the country, where a good many of the family live, 
may be seen funny little paths under the grass and weeds, 
where they run about for food, and perhaps to make visits to 
each other. 

But there are more interesting things about the house. In 
summer, when she wants it for a nursery, she makes the room 
near the surface, and lines it carefully with fine grass ; and 
if she happens to find anything softer, like feathers, wool, 
or hair, she gladly adds it to make a softer bed for the little 
ones. 

It is different when cold weather comes on, and the babies 
are all grown up, able to keep house for themselves. Then 
each pretty mouse makes a winter home for itself. Away down 
in the warm earth they dig a long passage till safe from the 



144 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

hard frosts that will freeze the ground, and there, in a comforta- 
ble nook, they make another nest, warmer than ever. With the 
first cold breath of winter, each one retires to his own home, 
crawls into the soft bed, rolls himself into a ball, wraps his long 
tail around himself and — goes to sleep for the winter. 

Pleasant way to pass the cold months, isn't it ? I think some 
people would like to do so. 

Sometimes the little sleepy heads are found in their winter 
quarters, and then they are easily caught, in spite of their long 
hind legs. Professor Tenney tells an interesting story of one 
that he found. 

He was digging into an Indian mound in Indiana, when he 
tore open the home of a jumping mouse. The little owner was 
at home, and he seemed to be dead. His eyes were closed, and 
his two funny little hands — or paws — tight shut, and close 
together. The professor took it in his hands, and there was 
no sign of life, except that it was not stiff, as a dead mouse 
should be. 

He thought he would carry it home, so he tied the mouse and 
its nest up in his handkerchief, and took it to° the house of a 
friend. In a warm room he again held the little creature in his 
hand, and after a long time began to see life. One little foot 
moved, and then it began to breathe. It was several hours 
waking up, but by night it was lively as any mouse. 

The Professor was on a journey, but he was so much inter- 
ested in his little captive that he carried it with him. He got 
a tin box, for wood is of no use to keep a sharp-toothed little 
gnawer like a mouse safe. He put in some paper for a nest, 
and some corn to eat. 

The little fellow seemed to be contented. He nibbled the 



IN A GLASS HOUSE, 1 45 

corn, and cut the paper to bits, to make a nest. The journey 
was to the North, and the weather was much colder. 

When they reached a place to stay, the Professor put the 



THE FIRST TOILET IN THE NEW HOUSE. 



mouse into quite a big house. It was a glass shade of large 
size, and for a floor a newspaper and some cotton. He seemed 
to be pleased, and at once went to work to perform his toilet, 
and make himself fit for such fine quarters, and so much com- 



146 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

pany. He carefully washed himself all over, doing it just as 
Pussy does, only drawing his long, slim tail through his 
mouth. 

When it came bedtime, he went to work to make his home 
comfortable. All the paper of his floor he gnawed to bits, and 
with the cotton, made himself a snug nest five or six inches in 
diameter. Into the middle of this bed he crept towards morn- 
ing, and went to sleep. 

The next day he had a new paper floor, and the next night he 
nibbled that all up. But he probably stayed at work too long, 
for in the morning the Professor found him outside of the nest, 
and apparently dead. He took him up, and remembering how 
he found him first, did not throw him away, but kept him warm. 
Again he was all day waking up, getting very lively at night, 
and when let out for exercise, jumping about in such hops that 
it took two people to catch him. 

But the Professor now had to go home, and again the Mouse 
had a journey, reaching the end of it as well as possible. Every 
time, however, that there came a cold night he would go to 
sleep in that dreadfully sound way that seemed so much like 
death, and if not warmed, no doubt he would have slept till 
spring. What became of him the Professor does not tell ; per- 
haps he is still alive and frisky. 

Another one, that was caught in a trap in the summer, lived 
in a cage till winter. This little Mouse had two young ones, and 
they had a house underground, with two doors, for their owner 
gave them a foot deep of earth on the floor of the cage. 

He found one could dig a hole and bury itself, in a very few 
minutes. They were quiet pets, but once they were terribly 
frightened. He put into the cage one of their city cousins, a com- 



THE MOUSE HAS A FRIGHT. 147 

mon mouse. Then there was a panic ! The poor little Jump- 
ing Mouse ran about, and tried to get out, squeaked and chat- 
tered, and cried like a bird in distress. In his world, no doubt a 
brown mouse is a ferocious monster. 

These pets were fed on wheat, and buckwheat, and corn. 
Whatever was put in by day, was all carefully stored away at 
night, in the underground house. 

I haven't told you the many names that have been given to 
this little animal. To begin, the Mohican Indians called him 
the Wah-peh-sons ; the men that first saw him near Hudson's 
Bay named him Hudsonian Jumping Mouse, or in Latin, Jaculus; 
in New York State he is called Deer Mouse, and Wood Mouse, 
and Jumping Mouse, and Kangaroo Mouse. Enough names for 
one poor mite of a creature less than three inches long, I should 
think. 

Pretty and interesting as is the Jumping Mouse, he has plenty 
of enemies, for he is very good to eat, and can't do much to 
defend himself, except hide. 

First, there are the owls, who go out to do their marketing 
at the same time the mouse does, in the evening, and who are 
so sharp to see and hear, that let but a blade of grass rustle or 
move, and down they will pounce, and carry off the mouse to 
feed their babies up in an old tree. 

Then there are the weasels, still, sly fellows, so long and slim 

that they can creep into the very houses and snatch the mouse 

from its own nest. And the foxes, with sharp claws that tear up 

the ground, throw open the house, and devour the whole family. 

And the cat, who will sit still and patient before the door, till 

one sticks out its little head. 

But perhaps worst of all is the butcher-bird, who pounces on 
9 



148 QUEER PETS AT MARCY^S. 

them from out of the air, and sticks their dead body up on a 

thorn of a tree, after eating what he wants. 

Still, in spite of all these creatures, forever on the lookout for 
a poor little mouse for dinner, the Jumping Mouse doesn't 
trouble his head about it ; he's a gay fellow, and has a very 
good time in the world. 




WORST OF ALL IS THE BUTCHER BIRD. 



A NEW HOUSE BUILT. 



149 




THE HOUSE THEY SHOULD HAVE BUILT. 



CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. 



THE HOUSE OF MUD. 



One spring there was great ado made, over the building of a 
small mud house in the backyard. In was in the strangest 
place you can think of, inside an old hat, which had been left 
hanging on a wall, and the builders were a pair of robins. 

They were not the true English robin that you read about in 



ISO QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

'■'■ The Babes in the Wood," but an American namesake of his, 
whose charming song I'm sure you have heard, in the early- 
mornings of spring. 

The new home was made of mud and grass, lined with soft 
bedding, and when finished, the one room was about four inches 
wide, and two inches deep. 

In this pleasant nursery were placed four or five lovely bluish- 
green eggs, and the pretty Mother Robin seated herself, to keep 
them warm till the little ones came out. 

Everybody was glad to have this delightful family settle so 
near, not only because of their joyful songs, but for their use- 
fulness, for what they like best to eat, is just what makes terrible 
mischief in the gardens — worms and various grubs. 

It is funny to see a robin on the lawn looking for something 
to eat. He hops along on the ground in the most easy and 
careless way, looking this way and that, up at you, over at the 
street, anywhere, as if the last thing in his thoughts was a 
worm. But soon his bright eyes spy one, hurrying to hide itself 
in the ground. Too late, Mr. Worm ! In an instant the bird 
seizes him. 

The worm resists, Robin gives a good pull, which makes him 
stagger. The worm doesn't yield ; then comes a bracing of the 
strong little legs, and a stout jerk; out pops the worm, and 
away flies Robin to the mud house with the choice morsel, for 
the hungry mouths awaiting it. 

I needn't tell any of you, little people, how the robin looks, 
for I'm sure you know his ash-colored coat and reddish-orange 
vest, but he has been known in rare cases to dress in black. 
Why — nobody knows. And it is not uncommon to find them 
partly, and even wholly, white. 



THAT DREADFUL WHITE FEATHER. 151 

Mr. Lockwood — an American animal lover — tells the story of 
a tame Robin who was made very unhappy by the appearance 
of white feathers in his tail. He resolved that he would not 
endure it, and, like a brave fellow, went at once to work to pull 
them out. One long hour the plucky bird dragged, and jerked, 
and pulled at those hated feathers, and at last got them out, 
tired, and suffering. 

Again they came in white, and again he pulled them out, till, 
after some weeks, he made up his mind that it was of no use. 
From that time he gradually grew more and more white, till he 
Avas eight years old, when he was nearly all of that color, and a 
queer-looking Robin indeed. 

The whole story of the bird is very interesting, and as Mr. 
Lockwood has told it himself for the grown-ups, in the Ainerican 
Naturalist, I will repeat a little for you. 

The bird was about a year old when he got him — a pert, 
saucy fellow, afraid of nobody, who ate nothing but meal and 
milk. He was fond of his cage, and for awhile would not go 
out when the door was left open for him. 

But one day he went too far, far enough to meet a hungry 
cat, who thought she would have him for breakfast. She did 
catch him, but she did not eat him. He got away somehow, 
probably by beating her face and eyes with his wings. He had, 
however, a severe hurt, which he did not get over for a long 
time, though he had the most careful nursing by the family. 

He was fond of play. As children " make believe " keep 
house, he would play "■ build a mud house." He would bustle 
around with a straw or a feather in his mouth, twittering and 
chattering to himself as though this was serious business. 

Some of the family were fond of jokes, and Rob was more 



152 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

than once made a victim. A favorite thing was to tie a bit of 
rubber cord to a wire of the cage. The bird was fond of 
playing with a string, and he would at once pounce on this. 
Seizing the end in his bill, he would pull on it, bracing him- 
self and drawing it out farther and farther, till suddenly it 
would snap back, and away would go Master Rob, heels over 
head backwards on the floor. 

Never touched it again, you think? 

On the contrary, he would instantly snatch it again, more 
determined than before, and again he would turn a complete 
somersault. 

In the spring, when the wild robins were all in a flutter, 
preparing to move and to set up housekeeping for themselves, 
poor Rob would catch the excitement too, and for a few days 
would be very cross and wild. But before April this was all 
over, and he was happy as ever in his house of wire. 

The robin is own cousin to the mocking-bird, and is able him- 
self to do a little mocking. This one learned the whistle that 
called the dog, and would set poor Dick half wild till he found 
out that it was not his master but Rob who whistled. Then 
he would slink off, much ashamed that he had been so deceived. 

But Rob learned other things. He mocked the peep of a 
distressed chicken so as to deceive his mistress, and even to dis- 
turb the sedate hen-mothers themselves. And when he mas- 
tered the cry of the hen who sees a hawk, the whole poultry- 
yard was aroused, and every chick ran for dear life to its mother's 
wings. 

This wise bird was fond of meat, of course, and since he lived 
in a wire house, and could not hunt for himself, he was supplied 
by the butcher, like other people. 






".-Tj 




THE MORNING SONG. 



154 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

If a piece of his food happened to be soiled by dropping on 
the floor, he would actually wash it in his tub before eating it. 
Rob lived to be nine years old, and died at last from eating a 
string. 

Another pet Robin, who preferred fresh beef to worms, was 
kept by Mrs. Holmes. He had curious tastes for a bird, and 
knew well how to make his wishes known. Not only beefsteak, 
but cake, he fancied, and after awhile he lived upon just what 
the rest of the family did, going to the table as regularly as any 
one. 

Nothing pleased this erratic bird better than a hot dough-nut, 
and he would teaze for one the moment he smelled them cook- 
ing. Like Rob, his scent was wonderful. He could tell the 
moment a paper of raisins or fruit was brought into the room, 
and would begin to teaze at once. 

He was fond of meat in any way, cooked or raw, and he 
would eat flies and spiders, though he didn't care for them par- 
ticularly. 

When his cake got dry, he would dip it into his water dish to 
soften. 

He was a sociable fellow, and always greeted any of the 
family who passed his cage, day or night, with a pleasant chirp, 
though he never did it to strangers. He had his own fancies 
about people, strong as any person's, and could never be coaxed 
by one he disliked. 

In winter our wild robins go to the South, and a story comes 
from there, that the pretty little fellows — like some bigger and 
wiser — are unable to resist temptation. They will eat certain 
berries of the China Tree, though every time they do so they 
become senseless for awhile, so that they fall to the ground. 



THEY KILL THE BABY. 155 

The little colored boys, who delight in robin pie, take no 
trouble to catch them, except to hide near the trees till the 
foolish birds fall, when they can pick up as many as they 
choose. 

There's another story told of this bird, and many people pro- 
fess to have seen it. It is said that when a baby robin is con- 
fined in a cage, the parents will feed it for awhile, till they 
apparently make up their minds that the little one is a prisoner 
for life, and then they give it to eat a leaf which kills it. 

It cannot be from cruelty, for robins are noted for their kind 
attentions to caged or deserted young birds, even when not of 
their own kind. They will bring grubs and worms, and feed the 
suffering creatures with as much care as though they were their 
own. 

All this, and all these, are American robins, remember, and 
not the familiar Robin-Redbreast of England. His name — his 
book name I mean, is — but wait, I'll put it over in the index at 
the end of the book, with all the other hard names, and you 
may turn to that place and find it for yourself, if you like. 

Interested as the children were in the family in the old hat, 
they never forgot their daily visitors, the sparrows. All the 
spring they kept the busy little m.others supplied with feathers, 
for there's nothing so welcome to the sparrow family as a soft 
feather-bed in the nest. 

From the time that snow fell in the fall, Marcy always spread 
a breakfast of bread crumbs on the roof of a balcony under her 
window, and there the pert, saucy little fellows came, all the 
cold, long winter through. Sometimes the snow was deep, and 
she had to sweep a place for the crumbs, and sometimes the 
hardy little creatures would go up to their very necks in the 




v- K.u.\[;?i^'^'^^^'*'' 



SOME OF Philip's relatives. 



MARCY'S FAREWELL SPEECH. I 5/ 

light, soft snow, but they never failed to come the moment she 
opened her window. 

When the grass started up, and spring began, then Marcy 
would make the birds a farewell speech, telling them, that now 
they must feed themselves, and go to the work for which their 
grandparents had been brought from England, eating the cater- 
pillars from the trees. That when snow fell again, she would 
be ready for them. 

From that time she began to hunt feathers for them, and 
whether disappointed of their crumbs or not, they never said, 
but they greedily accepted the feathers, and always carried them 
off to their houses. 

Uncle Karl, too, felt great interest in the lively little foreign- 
ers, and one day told a story he had heard, about a Sparrow 
that lived in Scotland, which so pleased the family, that I'm 
going to tell it to you. 

The bird was taken from the nest very young so she never 
learned to be afraid of people, and was never caged. The fam- 
ily named her Philip, and she would come when called by that 
name, even when out in the trees, away from the house. 

Philip always preferred to sleep in the house, and her favorite 
napping place was in the folds of a cambric handkerchief, worn 
around the neck of the house mother. At the back of her neck 
the Sparrow would nestle, among the soft folds, and there she 
would stay for hours. 

She liked a variety to eat, and kept the house nearly free 
from flies and spiders, though she w^as always on hand at meal- 
times, ready for her share of everything on the table. 

Sometimes the father of the family would decide that it 
wasn't quite the thing for a bird to come to the table, and he 



158 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

would take Mistress Philip in hand, and drive her away. But 
that saucy bird was well able to carry her point, and have things 
as she liked. 

No sooner was she insulted in this way, than she would 
pounce on the bald head of the enemy, peck at it, and pull at 
the scanty hairs that grew on the spot, till, big as he was, he 
was glad to give up the point, and let Philip return to the table- 
cloth in peace. 

When winter came, Philip looked about for a warm house, 
and after much peering around, and many twitters and chirps, 
she chose an empty china pitcher, that stood as an ornament on 
a mantel shelf in the room of her young master. There she 
went to work, and made a comfortable nest, of strings and 
feathers, bits of thread, and anything she found lying about, and 
there she slept every night. 

The shelf on which her china house stood, she regarded as 
part of her property, for she would defend it with scolding, and 
fluttering wings, when any stranger came near, and if one dared 
to lay a finger on it, she would peck it furiously. 

The next spring Philip was a year old, and one day, after a 
long absence, she was escorted home by a spruce young Cock 
Sparrow. He attended her to the window, and then left her. 

The next day he came again, leaving her at the window as 
before. He soon began to call for her in the morning. The 
sparrow family are early risers, as you know well enough, if you 
live in New York, or any city where they are plenty, and 
before any one was up in the house, he would come to the win- 
dow-sill and call. 

The moment Philip heard that, she would leave her nest and 
fly to the window. If it was open, she would go out, but if 



OUT OF TOWN FOR THE SUMMER. 



159 



closed, she would fly to the bed where her master slept, and pull 
his hair till he opened it. 

After a few days of these close attentions, the family found 




DEFENDING HER HOME. 



out that Philip had decided to accept the little wooer, and was 
even making preparations for a new home in the trees. No 
doubt she had failed to convince him that the pitcher was safe. 
When the new house was ready, Philip went there to live, and 



l6o QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

the family saw her no more for three months. They feared 
they should never see her again ; but the little creature had not 
forgotten them — she had only been busy. 

One of the first cool days in the .autumn, Philip remembered 
with pleasure her warm home in the pitcher, and surprised the 
family by making her appearance at the table, as cool and sure 
of her welcome as if she had never been away.- 

When dinner was over, she went at once to work to prepare 
for winter. It was evident that she had taken leave of her 
mate, and come back to stay. She flew to the pitcher, and 
busied herself at once repairing it, and fitting it for use, and 
then settled herself in it as before. 

All winter she stayed there as of old, but in the spring came 
back that lively young mate again ; and again Philip went to 
the trees for the summer. For five years she kept up this life, 
leaving the house in the spring and returning in the fall, and 
the whole family grew much attached to her. 

But at the end of the fifth summer, Philip did not return. 
Perhaps she decided to keep to the sparrow life after all, and not 
desert her partner in his old age ; or, perhaps, her life was 
ended. 

Whichever it was, they never saw her again. 



THE SMALLEST DEER IN THE WORLD, l6l 



CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. 

ANOTHER LITTLE STRANGER. 

One evening Uncle Karl came home from the city with a new 
market basket, which he carried carefully as though something 
alive was inside. So there was, as the children found out after 
dinner, when the basket was opened, and out sprang something 
which ran like a brown streak across the carpet, and hid behind 
a big chair. 

The poor creature was evidently frightened half out of her 
senses, and Uncle Karl made the children keep very still until 
he had soothed and quieted her, and held her in his arms, and 
then they drew near to look at the new pet. 

It was a beautiful animal, and one of the most rare and 
curious ever brought to our country — the smallest deer in the 
world. She was only six inches tall at the shoulder, and nine 
inches long, though shaped like a common deer. Her color was 
shining red-brown on the back, and white on the under parts. 
She had large, expressive black eyes, and legs no bigger than a 
lead-pencil, with droll little black hoofs. You can see her pic- 
ture here, drawn from the creature herself ; and now I will tell 
you the story of her life. 

Joan, as the little deer was named, passed her youthful days 
in the island of Sumatra, eating berries and fruit, and occasion- 
ally a sweet potato from somebody's garden, and in running 



1 62 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



about among the grass and low shrubs of that summer-land, with 
others of her family. So shy are these deer, and so cunning 
to hide from men and dogs, that little is known about their 




THK " DEAK LITTLE DEER." 



wild ways ; but the family of four, of which Joan was the last, 
were fated to have adventures. 

One day they were startled by a dreadful monster — in the 
deer family — a dog. They at once took to their fleet little heels, 



THEY TAKE A VOYAGE. 163 

and in a few minutes were snugly hidden in a hollow log, where 
they crouched, trembling at the fearful bark of their big noisy 
enemy outside. 

As it happened, the dog had a master behind him, who 
dragged the whole four, more dead than alive, out of their hid- 
ing-place. They are very cunning, and they pretended to be 
dead, but that did not deceive the hunter. He carefully secured 
them, and carried them off to the city of Singapore, where he 
hoped to sell them. 

An American sailor, whose ship lay in the harbor, saw the 
pretty, strange creatures, and after the fashion of sailors, bought 
them to bring home, though he had to pay for them with his 
watch. 

The strange new home of the timid little family was the ship 
** Janet." Their bed was made in a corner of the captain's 
cabin, under his bunk, or bed, and their owner gave them the 
not very pretty names of Jack and Jill, Darby and Joan. The 
vessel sailed, and their long voyage of more than four months 
began. 

There was another pet in the captain's cabin, a parrot, who 
struck up a friendship with the new-comers at once, and evi- 
dently welcomed them as society for his somewhat lonely life. 
Finding that they were not hurt, the Deer after awhile grew 
quite at home, and Poll was on the most affectionate terms with 
them. 

He delighted to perch on their backs, or their heads, and to 
talk to them, calling them by their particular names, or together, 
his **dear little deer." 

A sad thing happened during the voyage. One day Poll was 
delighted to find added to the family of four, two '' dear little 



1 64 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

Deer" babies. They were about as big as very young kittens, 
though they did not look like them, having long legs, like their 
parents. 

Poll was much interested in the little strangers, and stood 
nearly all the time perched on a box, where he could see them, 
turning his wise head on one side and the other, examining 
them curiously, and calling them also his ** dear little deer." 
But the babies' savage father — whether jealous of the young- 
sters, or whether he thought a life of captivity worse than death, 
no one knows — put an end to their short lives, you'll be horri- 
fied to hear, by biting off their legs with his sharp front teeth ! 

This was the beginning of sorrows to the Parrot, for when the 
"Janet" arrived off Sandy Hook they found cold weather, which 
is deadly to delicate natives of the South, and though warm 
covering was provided for them. Jack and Jill got out of their 
bed while the captain was on deck, and soon died of cold. 

This was a great grief to poor Poll, who sat moping on his 
perch, and mourned in silence. When, after reaching New 
York, Darby also died of cold. Poll became extremely low- 
spirited, and refused to say a word, even to bid good-by to 
the last of the family, who was carried off in the market-basket 
before his very eyes. To this little green-coated fellow the 
world seemed, no doubt, a hollow mockery. 

Joan had become quite familiar with life in a ship, but a 
basket was new to her, and when she reached the new home, 
she was more timid than ever. Even after she had been quieted 
by Uncle Karl, she hardly dared to stand up, but crouched as 
if ready to run. Then she had new acquaintances to make. 
There was, first, the dog, of whose intentions she was always 
suspicious, and whose odor was terrifying to her. Perhaps even 



MAR CVS CARE OF THE DEER. 1 65 

worse was the cat, a fearful monster, who showed the greatest 
eagerness to get at her, no doubt with hope of a nice meal. 

Besides these two, there was a new variety of the human 
species to get used to. On the ship were only men, and she 
had learned that they would not hurt her ; but this new sort, 
with long rustling skirts, she didn't understand, and what she 
did not understand always frightened her. She was in a con- 
stant state of terror. 

She would come to Uncle Karl when called, and allow him to 
caress her, even showing her affection by licking his hand like 
a dog ; but the slightest noise would send her like a flash across 
the room, behind a table or chair, to hide, and the slam of a 
door would make her jump two or three feet straight up into 
the air. Her tiny feet made no noise on the carpet, and her 
movements were so quick, she seemed to fairly glide over it like 
a spirit. 

It was not meant that this little beauty should die with the 
cold, so Marcy made her a bed in a basket in her mother's room, 
where she could never be cold, nor in danger from dog or cat, 
though she was not confined there, but ran all over the house. 

She lived on vegetables, which her two sharp front teeth cut 
like a knife. Parsnips, carrots, sweet potatoes, and cabbage 
were her bill of fare, and the children never tired of seeing her 
eat. 

She was the most quiet of pets, though when fed, she gave a 
sort of low whistle, and occasionally uttered a little cry, which in 
Borneo is considered by the natives an evil omen, so serious 
that a newly married pair, on hearing the sound, feel obliged to 
separate. 

The pretty Deer lived several days in her new home. Marcy 

10 



l66 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

and Ralph were her most devoted servants, and the whole fam- 
ily had become much attached to her. They hoped to make 
her tame, and also to teach the other animals that she was a 
pet, and must be respected. But their hopes were dashed one 
morning, by finding her dead in her basket. 

Whether from a chill, or some sudden terror which had startled 
her sensitive nerves, was not known. Whatever the cause, poor 
Joan was now at rest, and Uncle Karl had only the sad satis- 
faction of adding her graceful skeleton to the grim array of 
departed pets whose whitened bones, wired into shape of life, 
adorned the walls of his room. 

This little Deer, though so strange to us, is not a new discov- 
ery. It has been known for many years, though, as I said, it 
is so shy, that not much is known of its habits. It is found in 
India and the East India Islands, and it has names enough for 
the largest of animals. In India it is the Musk Deer, though it 
has no musk ; in Ceylon the Mouse Deer, though it is not in the 
least like a mouse, and the Moose Deer, though still less like a 
moose. The books call it the Pigmy Musk, or Moschus meminna. 

An old writer, in speaking of Ceylon, says: "There is a creat- 
ure in this land, no bigger than a hare, though every part rightly 
resembleth a deer, of a gray color, with white spots and good 
meat." 

Good meat ! that is unfortunate for the little creature, for the 
good meat he carries on his bones is the cause of his being 
hunted with dogs, caught in traps, and killed by sticks thrown 
at his legs. He has no horns, but has very long and strong 
tusks, and some writers say, that when pursued by a larger 
animal, he will leap up and catch on to the branch of a tree, 
and hang there till all is safe ; while if hunted by men, he runs 



A WHITE DEER. 



167 



for the water or a hollow log. Whether the story is true or not, 
we know that he can make extraordinary jumps. 

No animal, not even pussy herself, can be more graceful and 
elegant than this little creature, and like pussy, too, he can, if he 
likes, give a severe bite. Now and then a Mouse Deer is found 
of a pure white color, and that is at once adopted as a pet, and 
never, never regarded as " meat." 

The babies of this family, if taken very young, are easily 
tamed, and become very interesting pets about a house. 







BEFORE THEY WERE CAUGHT. 



1 68 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 



CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. 

A NATIVE AMERICAN. 

The next evening after the sad death of Joan, Uncle Karl 
told the children that the Mouse Deer, though itself a foreigner, 
had one cousin a genuine American, never found in any other 
country, adding, that if Ralph would bring his Blue Sketch- 
Book, he would show them a picture of it. 

Now to see the Blue Sketch-Book was a great treat to the 
children, partly because it was full of interesting pictures of 
animals, and partly because this uncle was rather an eccentric 
person, and never let them see more than one or two sketches 
at a time. He had a queer notion, that if they looked hastily 
through the whole, they would have only confused ideas, while 
if they looked at one, and learned about it, they would remem- 
ber, and really know something. 

Ralph ran upstairs to the Den, as Uncle Karl called his room, 
and soon brought back a big blue-covered book, closed with a 
small lock. Uncle Karl took from his vest pocket a little brass 
key and unlocked it, and the children drew near the table to 
see. 

The sketches were loose in the book, and after turning over 
quite a pile of them, he took one out and laid it on the table. 
It was the picture that you see here, of the Wapiti, the Ameri- 
can cousin of the "dear little deer." 



THE BABY'S ONE TRICK. 



169 



It is much larger than Joan, in fact a baby Wapiti is many 
times bigger than a grown-up mouse deer, but it is an interest- 
ing animal, and a gentleman who has a large deer park in Illi- 
nois — Judge Caton — has kept Wapiti from their babyhood, so 
that we know something about their ways. 




7HE AMERICAN COUSIN. 



The young Wapiti is a pretty, black-eyed fawn, with soft 
coat of golden-brown spotted with white. He is weak and help- 
less at first, like most babies, but is not at all stupid, for he 
knows very well how to take care of himself when men and dogs 
go out to hunt, and his mother has to run for her life. It is a 
cunning trick, and is simply to lie flat on the ground, and keep 



I70 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

perfectly still. In that way he is not often seen, and there he 
patiently waits till the hunt is over, and his mother comes back 
to him. 

The babies born in the park, hide in the same way, though the 
mothers are tame and do not run from men. One may take the 
little fellow up, and handle him, lay him down and walk off, and 
still he will lie limp as a wet rag, not showing a sign of life, ex- 
cept — what is very droll — he does not shut his eyes, but watches 
every motion with lively interest. The first time the Judge saw 
one play the trick, he thought he was paralyzed, till he had gone 
away from him, and saw him spring to his feet as well as any one. 

In the park the mothers, or Does, are often tame and familiar, 
eating out of the hand, and letting one stroke them ; but when 
the babies are young they are more shy, though the mother of 
the paralyzed baby, not only let her master lift the little one and 
pat it, but seemed to be pleased and proud as some other moth- 
ers when their babies are praised. 

But these amiable mothers have one special horror, and that 
is a dog. No matter how little, still less how big, no sooner 
does a dog show his head than every Doe throws forward her 
big ears, shows her teeth, and flies at him. Hear a story in 
Judge Caton's own words. 

" On one occasion a stray dog got in when the Wapiti were 
around the gate, a dozen Does with Fawns by their sides. 
When they heard the dog, the Does stuck their ears forward, 
stretched out their necks, and started for that dog with an 
earnestness that meant business. The cur understood the situ- 
ation, and wheeled and ran as never cur ran before. It was the 
most exciting and laughable race I ever saw. The exultant cry 
of pursuit, when he expected to be the pursuer himself, was fol- 




hmiri; 



THE EUROPEAN COUSIN. 



1/2 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

lowed by short, quick yelps of despair, which escaped him at 
every bound, while he turned his head first one side and then the 
other to watch the progress of the pursuit, which was getting 
more dangerous every moment. The leading Doe was already 
close, and had begun making passes with her feet, but just at 
that moment he shot into the thicket, and was out of sight. 
The Does returned with ears thrown back, as if to challenge 
any other dog to come on. The Bucks did not care much about 
it, and often did not join the chase." 

Forty or fifty full-grown Deer chasing one small dog must be 
a funny sight. 

In winter the tame Wapiti come on a run to the keeper's 
call, and take the food from his hand. He can go among them, 
and put his hand on them as much as he likes ; but in summer, 
when there are leaves and twigs in the woods to eat, they come 
if they feel like it. When comfortably settled in the cool 
shade, or lying in a shallow pool, which they are fond of doing, 
the keeper may shout himself hoarse, and they will not come. 

They are not noisy animals, except when angry, and then they 
utter the most dreadful squeal, so loud and high, that it sounds 
like a steam whistle, and makes one glad to have a good wall 
between him and the fierce creature. 

You've heard, perhaps, that deer shed tears, and then no 
doubt you've heard it denied. They may be like people, some 
cry and some do not. At any rate. Judge Caton declares that one 
of his shed many tears, when put in a cage, and much frightened. 

They have rather a bad temper of their own, too, and when 
angry, one would better keep out of the way. They throw up 
the head, draw back the lips, and grate the teeth, as though they 
would like to crunch one's bones. 



NEW SUITS TWICE A YEAR. 1 73 

However tame the Wapiti gets to be, there is one place where 
he takes his stand. He will not be driven through a gate — he'll 
die first. One may leave the gate open, and if he chooses he 
will walk through when he gets ready ; but try to drive him, 
and he's off like a shot. 

Twice a year the whole family have new suits. In winter it is 
of soft, thick fur, with overcoat of long wavy hairs. When this 
falls off it is so matted together that it hangs in great patches, 
like a beggar's cloak ; but once off, the summer suit comes to 
light, and that is fine and silky, of a bright russet-brown color. 

The Wapiti has the finest antlers of the whole deer family. 
They are sometimes five feet long, and every branch has its 
name. Do you want to know them ? Here they are : the body 
of the antler is called the beam, the large branches are called 
tines, and the small ones snags. The first pair of branches stand- 
ing out from the forehead like cows' horns are the brow-tines, the 
next pair the bez-tines, the third the royal-tines, and the fourth 
the sur-royal. 

Every year there comes a time, when even the half-tame 
Wapiti of the park retires to the deepest woods, and refuses to be 
seen or caressed. Seek him in his hiding-place, and one would 
hardly know him. He has lost his beautiful antlers, and a new 
set is growing, perhaps mere knobs as yet, but rapidly growing 
larger, and covered with what looks like black velvet. 

It is a thick, soft fur called the velvet, and at that time the 
antlers may be bent in any shape, and they will grow so. When 
full grown, the velvet is rubbed off against the trees, and the 
proud Wapiti comes out to display his splendid white antlers, 
a little larger than those of last year. 



174 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. 

THE BABY THAT LIVES IN THE SNOW COTTAGE. 

It was one of Uncle Karl's peculiar notions to give each of 
the children some sort of an expedition for a birthday present, 
and to let the child choose what it should be. Marcy's birthday 
came in the summer, and then they usually had some delightful 
picnic excursion on New York Bay, up the Hudson River, or 
out to the sea-shore, while Ralph's came in winter, and sug- 
gested visits to something attractive in the city. 

This winter, as the long looked-for day drew near, Uncle 
Karl asked Ralph to choose his present, and he instantly de- 
clared that he should like a visit to the New York Aquarium. 
He had read in the papers of the seals and monkeys, and other 
strange and curious creatures living there, and was very anxious 
to see them, especially the monkeys. 

The birthday happened to be a sunny day, and the little 
party of three had a grand time. They spent several hours in 
the Aquarium, dined in style at a grand restaurant, and reached 
home at night, tired but happy, and full of the new things they 
had seen and heard. 

For some time afterward, they were busy and interested in 
finding out about, and talking over the new animals they had 
seen, and in watching Uncle Karl, as he carefully finished up 
the sketches he had made on the spot. 



\ 




HE LIVED IN A COTTAGE OF SNOW. 



i;6 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

They found the wild creatures perhaps even more interesting 
than their own pets, and there was scarcely one that had not 
been the pet of somebody. It is about these new acquaintances 
that I want to tell you now. 

The Seals were the first objects of interest. They spent an 
hour by the tank, and this is what they learned about the baby 
that lives in a snow cottage. 

It is away up North, among the icebergs of Greenland, that 
the pretty Seal baby lives, in a cottage of snow, with ice for a 
floor. You think it must be cold perhaps, but it isn't, for in 
the first place nothing is warmer than a covering of snow , and 
then you must think how it is dressed. 

First, under his fur suit, he has a thick coat of fat, which is 
the warmest wrap he could have ; half a dozen woolen blankets 
are nothing to it. Next comes his skin, with the soft, downy fur 
that you see in ladies' jackets and muffs, and outside of that a 
thick cloak of long hairs, which cling together when he goes 
into the water, and keep out every drop. Getting cold is the 
last thing he thinks of. He sleeps and eats and grows fat on 
his icy bed. 

But now hear about this curious snow cottage. Seals, though 
they spend much time in the water, must breathe air, and so, in 
that cold part of the world, where the ice is several feet thick, they 
keep open holes through the ice, where they come to breathe. 

It is supposed they keep these holes open, by always going to 
one spot to breathe. However that may be, it is a fact that it is 
done, and they always have tunnels to the air. 

When the mother seal wishes to make a nursery for her baby, 
she comes to a breathing-hole, and makes the opening larger, so 
that she can climb up on to the ice. 



ODD FASHIONS IN SEAL FAMILIES. \jy 

Now over the ice there are several feet of snow, perhaps six 
or eight, and this she depends on to hide her httle one from its 
enemies. So she is careful not to disturb the surface, but she 
digs out a little round room, four or five feet across, with a low, 
sloping roof of the snow, and the tunnel through the ice for a 
door. 

In it she puts her baby, a pretty little fellow about the size 
of a cat, and dressed in a white woolly coat. Here he stays for 
two or three months, and here the mother comes to care for 
him and feed him, till he is big enough to swim and dive, and 
catch fish like a grown-up Seal. 

Not all Seal babies are dressed in white, and live in a house 
of their own. Some dress in yellow, and some in black, and 
many have no house but a rock or a cake of floating ice. One 
that lives in the islands near Alaska has its nursery on a rock, 
and is taught to swim by its papa. 

There are different ways among Seals, as there are among 
people, you see. Now the Greenland baby has a very rude 
father, who never thinks of teaching him. On the contrary, he 
worries and teazes him, taking him in his mouth and shaking 
him like a rat. His mother, however, is good enough to make 
up for everything. She makes his warm little nursery, and she 
pets him, and kisses him — that's true, though you may think it 
is queer — and no doubt she talks plenty of Seal ''baby talk" to 
him. 

Safe as seems his home under the snow, which extends for 
miles in every way, a flat, smooth roof, he has enemies sharp 
enough to find him out, and cunning enough to catch him. 
Great white bears, and hungry foxes, and Esquimaux dogs can 
all tell, by their wonderful scent, the exact spot where lies the 





mmmm 














NANNOOK, THE WHITE BEAR. 



HUNTING THE SEAL. 1 79 

young seal. Bears and foxes hunt for themselves, but the dog 
leads his master to the treasure he finds, without alarming or 
disturbing it in the least. 

Seals are the living of the poor Greenlander. Their skin he 
wears, their fat he burns for light and warmth, their flesh he 
eats. Without seals the whole race would die. A Seal nursery, 
therefore, is a great find for him, for the young one is as nice 
to eat as a chicken, and if careful, he can generally catch the 
mother too, when the whole village has a feast. 

As soon as the dog points out the spot, the Eskimo goes 
back ten or more steps, and then runs, and gives a tremendous 
jump, crushing in the roof, and snatching up the Seal baby, 
before it has time to get away by diving through the door. 

Then he digs away the snow, and waits for the mother to 
come and see after her baby. Sometimes he fastens a line to 
the little- fellow's flipper, and lets him go into the sea, and when 
the mother comes, catches her with his seal hook. 

If he finds a seal hole where t«here is no young one, the half- 
starved Eskimo sits down beside it, ready to strike. There 
he must sit, on the watch, without a moment's sleep, sometimes 
three or four days and nights. The moment the Seal comes up 
to '' blow," as they call it, he must strike with his spear, or he 
will lose his chance. 

What makes it worse, he often cannot see the hole ; it is 
under the snow, and he thrusts his spear down till he finds 
where it is. He has only that to guide him. He must strike 
without seeing the game, but so expert do they become that 
they rarely miss. 

Seals are curious creatures. Though they look like fish, they 
are no more fish than you are. They have four legs, but the 



l80 , QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

two hinder ones are so covered up by skin, that only the feet 
project, and look more like a tail. They can walk on all fours, 
humping up the back so that they look like huge caterpillars, 
and they can gallop in a scrambling sort of style, throwing up 
sand and gravel in showers as they go. 

I have read of one that could climb a fence. He was living 
in an aquarium in Philadelphia, and he was anxious to get into 
another tank, to fight a rival Seal. He rested his forefeet, or 
flippers, on the fence, and flung his body over, as a man would 
leap a wall. 

But their quickest way of getting along on land is to roll. 
Surprise one a little way from the shore, and over and over he'll 
go, like a barrel, till he plumps into the sea and is safe — from 
men at least. Of course he can swim as well as fish them- 
selves, which is quite necessary, since fish is what he eats. 

Seals have very pretty heads, with large black eyes, so intelli- 
gent looking that when one raises its head and looks at a per- 
son, it seems as if it would speak. They have no ears on the 
outside, though they hear as well as anybody, and when they go 
into the water they shut tight — not their eyes, as you do — but 
their nostrils. 

They are frolicsome creatures. They play and tumble about 
in the water, come to the surface and make a great noise — that 
the sailors call a " Seal's Wedding." Even when they live in 
tanks in an aquarium, they will romp with each other, and play 
with a fish as a cat does with a mouse, throwing it out of the 
water, and barking with delight when it falls back again. They 
will dive and splash, and shake the fish as if it were alive, and 
all for pure fun. 

They have much curiosity, and are fond of music. They will 



SEAL TALK. l8l 

come half out of the sea to listen to music, or examine any new 
thing. They are often caught by attracting their attention by 
some noise, which the Eskimo calls ''seal talk," till the hunter 
draws near enough to strike. 

I must tell you about this too enticing " talk." The Eskimo 
lies down on one side, and creeps toward a Seal napping on the 
ice. While the animal sleeps, which he does a few seconds at a 
time, the man draws nearer ; but when the Seal lifts his head to 
look about, the hunter paws on the snow with one foot and hand, 
and makes the sound called " talk." 

The Seal seems to be charmed. He rises and shakes his 
flippers, and rolls over in delight. Then he takes another nap, 
and the man hitches along a little nearer. 

A seal can sleep on the water^ lying on one side, with upper 
flippers out in the air, and it's well he can, for it doesn't seem 
very safe for him to sleep on land, poor fellow. 

But fancy a Seal fanning himself ! Funny as it seems, they 
like to do it, sitting up on a rock, with head dropped on one 
side, and for a fan, a hind flipper. Travelers do tell strange 
stories, I must say. 

He has a voice of his own. He can bawl like a calf when 
angry, and he can bark, and cry softly to his mates. When an 
enemy comes near, a mother seal will sometimes cry so pitifully 
that even hardened hunters hesitate to touch her. 

The seal family are easily tamed, and make gentle and inter- 
esting pets. They soon learn to love people and a fire so much 
that they cannot be made to go back to the sea. 

Stories have been told of persons wishing to get rid of the 
trouble of feeding pet Seals, who have taken them out to sea 
and dropped them in. The animal would follow the boat and 



l82 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

cry to be taken in, and if its owner was hard-hearted enough to 
refuse, it would always find its way home, even in one case 
climbing through a window to get to the fire. 

They are easily taught, and some of their tricks are very 
funny. They will climb to the back of a chair, bark when told, 
say "papa" — which is the bark trained a little — offer to kiss any 
one, and lay their flippers close to their side and whirl rapidly 
in the water-tub. They are very affectionate, and like to be 
petted. 

Dr. Buckland tells of a tame Seal that was once in London. 
It was owned by a French sailor, who spent two years training it 
for exhibition. He made a play of the performance, in which 
the Seal volunteered to go as a soldier. He enlisted and was 
drilled, and he could fire a cannon. 

He was generally good-natured, but there was one thing he 
could not endure, and that was — strange to say — white ribbons ; 
if a lady came in with them on, he was very much annoyed. 
After all his master's trouble and teaching, he did not enjoy it 
long, for the Seal was killed by swallowing a hook in a fish. 

There is an interesting story about another baby of the seal 
family, one of the big cousins of the Greenland Seal, called the 
Sea-Lion. 

This little fellow had a queer nursery. It was a small room in 
the Cincinnati Zoological Garden, opening into the tank where 
his parents spent most of their time. The baby was — I regret 
to say — a very cross one, and tried to bite everybody who came 
near him. 

The mother spent most of, her time in the nursery, only going 
out twice a day for a bath ; but the father was not allowed to 
go in, for these wild fathers sometimes have very strange ways 



THE SEA-LION BABY. 



183 



toward the youngsters. This father seemed to be very good- 
natured, for every morning when Mother Sea-Lion went out, he 
would meet her at the door and kiss her good-morning. 

When the Sea-Lion baby was five weeks old, the mother made 
up her mind he was 
big enough to go out. 
So one morning she 
came from the water, 
all covered 
with a whit- 
ish, oily stuff, 
that looked 
like lard. It 
seemed to 




THE BABY AT PLAY. 



ooze out of her skin, and she hurried into the nursery and began 
a strange performance. 

She rolled about till everything in the room — walls, bed, and 
baby — was covered with grease. It didn't look very nice, but 



1 84 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

no doubt it was necessary. The wise mother knew what she 
was about. The baby seemed to like it too, and the next time 
the door was opened, out he went after her, and plumped into 
the water. 

The men came around to see him taught to swim; but he 
didn't have to be taught, he could swim as well as anybody. 
He played around as though he liked it, leaping and diving, 
and when tired he laid his head across his mother's neck and 
rested. 

One way of playing was very funny ; it was so like a baby 
with a rattle. He would take a chip which was kept for him, and 
lie on his back and play with it, using his fore-flippers and his 
mouth, as you see him in the picture. 

The first time he went out he was rather shy of his big father, 
and kept behind his mother ; but after a while he took a great 
liking to him, and delighted to swim around with him. He even 
tried to coax him to play, but though he seemed fond of the 
baby, the great Sea-Lion was too dignified for such amusements, 
and he would push him gently away, as though he said, " There ! 
there ! run away now." 

These happy times came to an end. The mother died. The 
father took her loss very hard. He was ferocious for a while, 
and tried to bite people. Then he grieved and pined away, so 
that they feared he would die. 

As for the baby, he simply insisted that his mother he would 
have, and no one else should make him eat. The keepers did 
everything they could, and tempted him with food in every pos- 
sible way, but eat he would not, and eat he did not. And the 
obstinate little Sea-Lion baby starved to death. 



IN THE SNOW COTTAGE. 1 85 



CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. 

NANNOOK AND BOB. 

The baby that lives in the snow cottage has a worse enemy 
than the poor Eskimo, and that is a beautiful big fellow 
called Nannook by the natives, and the Polar Bear by the 
books. 

He is dressed in a silvery white fur coat, and boots, with even 
thick fur for the soles, as some other animals of that cold 
country have. 

Bears are very clever all over the world. It is said of them, 
that they have the strength of ten men, and the sense of twelve. 
Perhaps the terrible cold and the scarcity of food sharpen their 
wits, and at any rate — whatever the cause — the Polar Bear is 
one of the very wisest of his race. 

He is so expert in hunting that the Eskimos have learned 
of him. Lying on the side and stealing up to a sleepy seal, 
and amusing it when awake with a monotonous noise called 
" seal talk," was done by bears before men learned the trick. 

The Polar Bear also likes the baby seal, especially the Mother 
Bear, when she comes out of her winter's home with her cubs. 
At that time she hunts with special care for a seal nursery, that 
she may jump on the roof and break it in, as I told you the 
Eskimos do. 

The little seal she gives her babies to eat, after she has caught 



i86 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



the mother by help of it, in the way that men do, that is, hold- 
ing it in the passage to the water till its mother comes to take 
care of it, and then seizing her with the other paw. 

Nannook's baby also has a nursery under the snow. In the 
fall the Mother Bear eats a big dinner of meat, and then goes 
to her den for the winter. Sometimes this retreat is a small 
cave under the rocks, sometimes under the roots of a tree, and 
sometimes nothing but a cave dug in a snow bank. Whichever 
it may be, it is a comfortable place, for more snow falls and 
covers up the door, leaving the sleepy Bear warm, and safe from 
all enemies, and she needs no more food till spring. 

In this home the babies are born, and as soon as spring opens, 
and they are big enough to go with her, she leads them out to 
hunt a fat seal, or something nice to eat. 

At this time Mother Nannook is savage, and it is particularly 
dangerous to meet her, though I heard an amusing story of one 
Bear who ran away from the hunters. She had two cubs, and 
they could not run fast enough, so this wise parent pushed them 
along with her nose. They were knowing little fellows, too, and 
when she pushed one far ahead, he would run along and put 
himself before her again, for another push. So they went on, 
and you'll be glad to know that the brave mother saved both 
her babies and herself from the hunters. 

In his own cold home, the Polar Bear eats little besides meat, 
but when he is taken away and kept as a prisoner, he will eat 
almost anything. One in a zoological garden in London ate 
only bread, six pounds a day, and was specially fond of cakes 
that visitors gave him. This poor fellow suffered with the heat, 
and in summer had to have a cave made with ice, to remind him 
of his native home. 



^TORY ABOUT BEARS. 18/ 

Our American Indians, who have many curious stories about 
animals, tell one of the most amusing on the origin of bears. 
Once upon a time, they say, a very long time ago, there was 
but one Bear, an enormous fellow, whose step made the earth 
shake and tremble, and whose howl was like thunder. He could 
easily drink, up a whole lake at a time, and his drinking made 
such a current in the water, that men could not row a boat out 
of it, (something like that above the falls of Niagara, I suppose). 

When at last this became too terrible to be endured, men 
came together, and by help of some " great medicine " managed 
to kill the monster. To make sure that he did not come to life, 
the victorious party cut his body into small bits, and scattered 
them to the four winds. But alas ! in a short time they made 
the appalling discovery, that every tiny bit of the flesh sprang up 
and ran off, a perfect little Bear ! 

Bears have a hard name in stories, but in real life those who 
know them best say, that excepting one or two cases, they are 
peaceable, and will not attack men unless starving or wounded. 
If a bear is hungry, or if a man begins the fight, he is one of the 
most ferocious of animals. He will stand up on his hind legs, 
and use his terrible paws ; boxing with them so severely as to 
kill instantly, and tearing with his long sharp claws. If he can 
come near enough he will grasp his enemy, and hug him to 
death at last. 

Other animals are kept away by fires, but Bruin is much too 
knowing for any shallow trick. If he desires anything protected 
in this way, he simply goes to the nearest stream, soaks his 
shaggy coat with water, and then rolls on the fire till he has 
put it out. This is well known in Siberia, and the animal is 
highly respected, and spoken of politely, as an honorable enemy. 











THE BEAR THE INDIANS TELL ABOUT. 



TRYING TO BE A BIG BEAR. 189 

The strongest and fiercest Bear in the world is the American 
Grizzly Bear, He is monarch of the mountains and woods 
where he lives ; all animals sneak away from before him, and 
few men care to meet him. 

It has been said that he cannot be tamed, but there are few ani- 
mals utterly insensible to kindness, if taken when young, before 
they have learned to hate men. The Grizzly Bear is not of this 
few. He makes a most amusing pet, though rather rough ; and 
he's as fond o-f pranks as a monkey. I want to tell you a true 
story of one named Bob. 

He was born in the mountains of California, and was still 
very young when he was out one day walking with his mother, 
and they were met by a hunter. The mother did not like hunt- 
ers, especially when she had her baby with her, so she stopped 
and growled, and the little fellow crept close up to her side. 

I needn't tell you about the fight, except that the mother was 
killed, and the hunter came up to take away the cub, which he 
wanted to have for a pet. The young Bear didn't understand 
much about the fight, nor feel much afraid of the man, but he 
tried to growl like his mother, though he had no teeth to carry 
out his threats. 

The hunter, however, only laughed at his attempts to be a big 
Bear, took him up in his arms and carried him off through the 
woods and down the mountain, till they reached a little house 
made of boards and called a '* Redwood Shanty." 

This was the man's house, and it was where the Bear baby 
was to live, too. Before he got to the new home he had been 
named Bob, and a strange new life began for him from that 
moment. 

His first and only attack of homesickness was that evening, 



190 



QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 



when he began to feel hungry, and mourned for his mother and 
his supper. His new master quickly gave him something to eat, 
something very nice and sweet, that he never had tasted, and he 
was comforted. Before long he forgot all about his home in 
the mountains, was tame and fond of his master, and pleased to 
live in a house where there was so much to be seen. 

He was frolicsome as a kitten, 
and full of funny pranks. Among 
other things he liked a doll- 
baby. He would take a round 
stick of wood, about the right 
size for him, hold it in his arms 
and rock back and forth with it, 
as though he was a careful mam- 
ma and that was his precious 
baby. He would walk around 
on two legs, holding the play- 
baby with the greatest care, and 
' "~ looking very droll indeed. . 

BOB 

But — like some little girls — 
he became tired of a doll, and thought a live baby would be 
better. One day the idea struck him that Tom, the cat, was a 
suitable person for him to play with. Now Tom was a most 
dignified, large gray cat, who never forgot his sense of propriety 
enough to run after a ball, or in any way descend to frivolous 
amusements. He passed his days quietly in the Redwood 
Shanty, dressing his fur, and making his dainty toilets; but his 
nights he spent out in society, and he was thought to have a 
voice of wonderful compass and tone. 

It was this important personage whom one day Bob suddenly 




THE CAT REFUSES TO BE HUGGED. 191 

seized in his arms, and treated to a good hug, a real bear's 
hug. 

This was too much ! Tom regarded it as an insult, and re- 
sented it accordingly. With sharp claws he soon made Bob 
drop him, rubbing his nose and howling pitifully. He never 
meddled with Tom again, but returned to his wooden baby, 
which had no claws to scratch back. 

Another of his enjoyments was to have something to suck ; a 
blanket, a skin, or anything. He would spend hours in this 
curious amusement. 

He was also fond of riding. Some of the neighbors kept pigs, 
and no sooner did one come near the shanty than Bob was out 
in a hurry, perched upon the creature's back, holding on with 
his sharp claws, and now and then boxing its ears, while the 
unhappy pig ran and squealed, and after a while shook him off, 
taking good care never to come that way again. 

One of Bob's greatest pleasures was to look out of the window 
and see what passed. He would lay his fore-paws crossed on the 
sill, and resting his head on them look out by the hour, closely 
watching everything, much to the amazement of passers-by, who 
were not acquainted with him. 

Bob was very fond of eating, and was afiflicted with what kind 
grandmothers call a "growing appetite." He never liked to see 
nice morsels on the way to other mouths than his own. When 
the table was spread, and his master, and perhaps a visitor, sat 
down to their meal, Bob would get on to the table — since no 
chair was provided — and prepare to secure his share of the good 
things. In spite of raps on the paws, he would now and then 
slyly grab a tempting mouthful, and if a too delightful bit on a 
fork was in danger of being forever lost to him, in the mouth of 



192 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

a man, he would suddenly make a dive, snatch it off, and swal- 
low it before one could wink, looking all the time so wise and 
funny, that one could not help laughing at the naughty trick. 
But at last he was punished for this. His master took a very 
hot potato on his fork, and Master Bob seized it, and crammed 
it into his mouth. Of course it burned him, and after that he 
never put a potato into his mouth, until he had pulled it open 
and crushed it in his paws. 

Sweets were his worst temptation ; the sugar-bowl was always 
irresistible to him. This taste once brought the little Bear into 
serious trouble. In his master's absence he found the molasses 
jug, and in his haste to get at the sweet stuff he broke the jar. 
He had his fill, to be sure, but he daubed his shaggy coat all 
over with the sticky mass, so that he was not fit to be near 
people, even in a shanty. 

His master tied him to a tree outside, where he soon wore a 
smooth path walking around, for he didn't at all fancy being 
tied up. He would walk one way as far as his rope would let 
him, then turn a somerset and walk the other way ; when he 
reached the end that way he would repeat the somerset, and 
turn again, and so he would do by the hour. Of course, all this 
rolling caused the leaves and dirt to stick to his daubed coat, 
and made him look like a vagabond Bear, and not in the least 
like a pet who lived in a house. It was two or three weeks 
before he was clean enough to go back to the shanty. 

Bob's master slept on a sort of shelf, hung to the side of the 
house, and resting on two legs in front, which in the day-time 
was shut up out of the way, in the small shanty, and Bob's bed 
was exactly under his master's, simply because it was the only 
spot in the house where he would stay. 



THE BEAR'S PLEASANT JOKE. 1 93 

That did very well while he was little, though he was full of 
fun, and often pulled the bedclothes off, as though for a joke. 
But when he grew bigger and could reach the bed, trouble 
began. Sometimes the master would be suddenly wakened by 
what seemed to be an earthquake, heaving up the very founda- 
tion of things. Clutching the side of the bed to hold on, and 
waking enough to see what was the matter, he would find Master 
Bob sitting up, and deliberately shaking the bed, to stir up his 
master. Of course he would get a scolding, and would lie down 
quite meekly, while his master tried to sleep again. 

Several times every night the mischievous fellow would arouse 
the tired hunter, apparently for nothing but to see if he was 
there, and secure companionship for himself, for he was evi- 
dently lonely. 

After a while he grew so big, that when he sat up — which 
Bears are fond of doing — he could throw his master fairly on to 
the floor, with all his bedding, and that seemed to Bob the 
greatest joke of the season. Scarcely a night passed now, with- 
out an episode of this kind, and the long-suffering master at 
last lost his patience, and made up his mind that Bob was too 
big to live in a shanty and be a pet. 

He thought of a plan which would be comfortable for his old 
comrade, for he was very fond of him after all, and before long 
the time arrived when he resolved to send Bruin to a new home. 

A man came along one day, who was a sort of a peddler be- 
tween the towns and scattered shanties, and to him Bob was 
intrusted to be taken to the nearest railroad station, whence he 
was to go in the cars, to a park in a certain city, where a few 
animals were kept. 

While the business was going on, Bob became suspicious that 



194 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

something was wrong, and he retired to the corner under the 
bed, a sulky, regular Growl-Bear like his mamma. When his 
master fastened a rope to him he was rather snappish ; but 
when the man took hold of it to get him out, he suddenly 
became a savage big Bear who would stand no trifling. 

He refused to go. The man pulled, the Bear seized the bed- 
ding ; off it came, and he felt himself going. He made a sudden 
snatch at the bed itself ; down it came about his ears, and the 
rope still drawing. He made a wild grab and seized the table, 
where he had eaten >so many nice dinners ; it was a light affair, 
and came down in an instant, and a sudden jerk of the rope 
brought Bob to the door of the shanty. With a last plunge he 
caught the door-post, and there he held. The peddler could 
not stir him, so Bob's master and a neighbor took hold. With 
all their strength they pulled ; with all his strength he held on. 
The rope was new ; something must give. It did ; it was the 
shanty, and down came the whole about his ears. 

When he saw the ruin he had made, Bob was frightened, and 
he was quickly hauled upon the wagon, into a rough cage they 
had hastily made, and in a few minutes was driven off, leaving 
his master to begin life again by building his house over. 

But this was not the end of the Bear. The insult of being 
in a cage and drawn off by a horse was too great , he would 
not endure it. So he curled up in a corner of the hated box, 
and refused to eat or to be comforted. 

As quickly as possible the wild passenger was carried to his 
new home, and put into a nice large place in a pretty park. 

His quarters consisted of a comfortable dark room under- 
ground, where he could retire when not inclined for society, and 
a large open yard in front, where there was a big tank of water. 




^^ /'/Ul/jrj^, 



^ji.hN^^- 



KOALA, OR AUSTRALIAN BEAR. 



19^ QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

a charming post to climb, and strong bars to keep strangers out. 
Now Bob had a pair of sociable black Bears for next-door neigh- 
bors, and every fine day he had visits from hundreds of peo- 
ple, who gave him apples and candy and cakes to his heart's 
content. 

He soon recovered his spirits, and grew to be a great favorite 
with the children, and the last I knew of him he was an enor- 
mous, good-natured Grizzly Bear, and the pet of that park. 

Another pet I want to tell you about, is called the Australian 
Bear. The animal looks like a small bear, as you may see by 
its name, but you know it is never safe to judge by the outside, 
and the naturalists, who decide '' who's who " among animals, 
say that he is more nearly related to the kangaroo. 

Bear, or Kangaroo, or whatever he may be, his name in 
Australia is the Koala or Bear, and a pretty little creature he 
is. He is somewhat bigger than a large cat, with long white 
fringe on his ears, and soft velvety nose. 

The Mother Koala has a fur bag, like her cousin the kangaroo, 
in which she carries her babies till they are big enough to look 
around a little, and then she carries them about on her back, 
where they hold on for good, and see the world at their leisure. 

In his native woods the Koala spends his life in the trees, 
eating leaves, and sleeping away the daylight, curled up in a 
bunch in the fork of a tree, where he looks like a fur ball. 

He wears a beautiful soft coat, of reddish gray fur, and has 
no tail. He can snarl and scold, but his usual noise is a soft 
little bark, and he is so good-tempered and amusing, that he 
is much liked for a pet. 

One gentleman brought up a Koala from the cradle (the fur 
cradle, you know), and he lived in the house with the family. 



QUEER WAY TO SLEEP. 1 9/ 

He always spent the night in his master's room, part of the 
time dimbing over the furniture and on the shelves, and when 
tired, creeping into bed, and nestling up close to his friend for 
a nap. 

Though living among people, he could not get over his love 
of sleeping in the day-time, so he would seize tight hold of 
something, often a servant's dress-skirt, and there he would hold 
on and sleep, while she went about her work, never being dis- 
turbed by her motions, and never losing his hold. 

In fact, his paws were made more for holding on than for 
walking, having the toes divided into two sets, two on one side, 
and three on the other, that oppose each other as our thumb 
does the four fingers. So the little Koala can hang on to any- 
thing, a branch or a dress-skirt, and climb most rapidly ; but his 
walk on the ground is a sort of crawl. 

Sometimes he would take his place on his master's shoulder, 
sitting at the back of his neck and holding on to his hair, not 
moving, whatever his master did. One would not think that 
a pleasant load to carry about, but we all know how a pet-lover 
will allow himself to be imposed upon. I have known one to 
creep humbly into the back side of a bed, not to disturb a pet 
dog who occupied the front, and another to sit in a most un- 
comfortable position, lest the cat, who had placed herself in the 
way, should be awakened. 

The pet Australian Bear had one curious and unusual taste. 
He was extremely fond of tobacco. He delighted in an old 
pipe to lick, and when sitting on his master's shoulder, would do 
his best to snatch away the pipe he was smoking. 



198 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER NINETEENTH. 

A SAILOR WITH WINGS. 

While the children Were interested in seals and their neigh- 
bors in the sea, Uncle Karl showed them a picture of a bird 
that seals are fond of — to eat — and that made up his mind to 
be a sailor. 

It is a droll-looking creature, standing up straight like a man, 
two or three feet high, and it is as odd as it looks. It is a Pen- 
guin, and it came from an island far off in the sea, where its 
family have their homes and build their nests in great crowds, 
like a large city. 

One island has been lately visited by an English ship, and 
many new things learned about this curious bird, which does not 
fly, but swims. It is Nightingale Island, and it is told about in 
the late writings of Sir Wyville Thompson. 

This small island seems to be the head-quarters for Penguins. 
The ground is covered with tough stiff grass, six or eight feet 
high, and called Tussock Grass, under which the nests are made. 
The whole place, six or eight acres, is divided, under the grass, 
into streets or passage-ways, and there are millions of families 
living in it. 

Penguin City, as it may be called, is not a pleasant city to 
visit, for the streets are kept constantly wet and muddy, the 
grass is matted into a jungle, and the roar is worse than that of 



BLACK AND UGLY LOOKING. 1 99 

Broadway. Besides, the old birds do not fancy visitors. Not 
from fear of them, for they scream and peck furiously, but be- 
cause a visitor cannot walk without crushing eggs and babies 
at every step. No one can blame them for complaining, I'm 
sure. 

The nests are all on the ground, each one has one or two eggs, 
and Mother Penguin sits up "like folks." 

A funny sight is to see the birds go out to fish. A thousand 
or more will start together from the various streets of the city, 
almost always turning to the left when meeting another party. 
They are dressed in slate-colored coat and white vest, and they 
have red eyes with black pupils. 

Down they march to the sea, in a sort of hobbling hop, bob- 
bing their heads and wabbling their small flippers, or what 
would be wings in any common bird, looking wonderfully human 
as they jump down the rocks, both pink feet held close together. 

But once let them plunge into the sea, and there's no more 
clumsiness nor awkwardness. The birds are as much at home 
as fishes, chasing and catching fish, swimming under water, and 
frolicking like a party of school-boys out for a swim. 

The baby Penguins found on this island, are black, ugly-looking 
creatures, shaped like an ^^^, though of course they are lovely 
to their parents. They grow fast, and as soon as they are big 
enough to walk out, they are formed into parties, you might 
call them schools, and each party is in charge of an old Pen- 
guin, who looks after them carefully, though everybody feeds 
them. 

As soon as they are able to take a swimming lesson, away 
they go to the water, where they plump in, and dive and nvim 
like their mothers. Sometimes a mother Penguin will come to 



200 QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

the surface with two baby Penguins on her flippers, holding on 
for good, and having the greatest fun in the world. 

Should a hungry shark come along and think he would dine 
on Penguin, they see him in an instant, and before you can 
wink, down they go to the bottom, where no shark can touch 
them, then quickly scramble up to the shore and come out of 
the water. On the beach they stand and chatter, and gabble 
a while, and then each one goes to its own nest. 

Besides the shark, the Penguin has another enemy, much 
smialler. It is a bird who likes eggs for breakfast, and does not 
hesitate to go to the very nest to get them. These robbers, who 
are not nearly so large as Penguins, go in pairs when they hunt. 
One stands each side of Madam Penguin, sitting firmly on her 
nest, resolved to protect the eggs with her life. But they are 
too sharp for her: one teases her till she turns and leans over 
to give it a peck, when the other quickly tips out the eggy 
snatches it up, and is gone before the victim knows what she 
has lost. 

I have told you in another book some curious things about 
the education of the young Penguin, how he never gets his 
dinner without taking a lecture too, so I will not repeat them 
here. 

When Sir Wyville Thompson's party visited Penguin City, 
tramping through its crowded streets, and disturbing the homes 
on every side, the birds, who away from home are mild and dig- 
nified to the last degree, became perfectly furious, and drove 
their sharp red bills into every man that came near. But worse 
than men were the dogs which followed them. Such monsters 
were never before seen in their city, and every bird tried to 
thrust a bill into them. 



THE LOST DOG. ' 20I 

Some of the later visitors found a wretched Httle dog in the 
middle of the main street. He had lost his master, and was 
howling pitifully. Around him in an excited ring stood the 
Penguins, scolding and threatening him. He dared not move, 
and he had to be carried out above the heads of the insulted 
birds. 

The sleeping Penguin looks very queer, for he goes to bed 
standing up, only turning his head down, as though he had wings 
to put it under, as other birds have. He looks as though he had 
lost his head, and rather ** uncanny" altogether. 

Sailors call a Penguin a Woggin, and the story that Uncle 
Karl told the children, was of one which took a fancy to be a 
sailor. It was on an American whaleship, cruising about the 
coast of Brazil some years ago. 

One day they had killed a whale and were cutting it up, 
when a Penguin swam up and tried to climb upon the creature. 
One of the sailors went to the bird, took him in his arms — he 
not making the slightest objection — and carried him on board the 
ship. After looking at him awhile, and having some talk about 
it, they decided not to kill so confiding a fellow, so they threw 
him overboard, never expecting to see him again. 

Perhaps the poor creature had never been kindly treated 
before ; at any rate he evidently made up his mind to live on 
that ship, for he soon came back, and begged, by his actions, to 
be taken up again. The captain gave orders to take him aboard 
and see what he wanted. He wanted to stay, as he plainly 
declared, by walking in the most dignified way to the after part 
of the ship, where the officers belong, and at once making him- 
self thoroughly at home. 

He was never in the least wild or afraid, but would let any 



202 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



sailor come up to him, and of course he soon became a great 
pet. They named him Jack Woggin, and he seemed pleased 
with his name, coming, when called, like a dog. 

Every day when it was calm, he was put overboard to fish 

for himself, and after an 

hour or two in the water 

he would come back 

again. But though tame 

with his own ship's crew, 

he was shy of others. 

He knew their boats 

and their men, and if 

a stranger 

came near 

him in the 

water, he 




DINNER TIME. 



would dive and get away ; but if his own boat came, he would 
get in. 

One day he was dropped overboard to fish, and went off with 
some of his wild Penguin friends, no doubt astonishing them by 



THE NEW SAILOR IS LOST. 203 

stories of men, and life on board a ship, when a sudden squall 
came up, and the ship was driven several miles away. 

In the hurry and confusion Jack Woggin was forgotten ; but 
after a while, when the storm was over, he was remembered, and 
the man aloft, whose business it is to keep watch for everything, 
had orders to look out for Jack, though no one thought he 
would ever be seen again. 

In two hours, however, the joyful cry came down, *' Jack 
Woggin in sight ! " and panting, and tired out, the queer sailor 
reached his ship. He was taken aboard, welcomed, and petted 
more than ever. 

When Jack was hungry he would walk up to the man at the 
helm, and look steadily and wistfully in his face, till he was fed 
with bread, or bits of beef freshened. Then he would walk to 
the water-tank, and wait till a drink had been supplied. 

One day, after he had lived with them for three months, and 
all the sailors had become much attached to him, he asked for 
some dinner. There happened to be no freshened meat, so the 
captain, not to disappoint him, gave him some slices of salt 
meat. Alas ! that was his last meal. In two hours Jack Wog- 
gin was dead. 

The sailors took it almost as much to heart as if they had lost 
a friend, and buried their pet with all due sailor honors. 



204 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 



CHAPTER TWENTIETH. 

AFTER HIS DINNER. 

One of the funniest things the children saw on the famous 
birthday, was a Httle fellow on a hunting trip after his dinner. 
His home was among the stones in a big tank, in which lived 
also tube-builders, anemones, and other curious little fellows, 
and he was a Prawn. 

He started out while they were looking, and they stood before 
the glass a long time to watch, in fact, until he found what he 
wanted, and ate it up. 

He began by searching around the edge of the tank, stepping 
gingerly on his tiptoes, and thrusting hiG first and second pair 
of feet into every nook and cranny, under the pebbles, and into 
the shells of any little fellow whose door happened to be open. 

If he had chanced to touch the owner, he would have dragged 
him out in an instant, for mild as he looks, he is fierce as a tiger 
when hungry. But happily for them, every little fellow retired 
into his back room, or shut tight his door, and Mr. Prawn found 
no one at home. 

Now the scent of the Prawn is so keen, that he can tell when 
a bit of meat has merely fallen through the water, and before 
this one had got around the tank, he caught the odor of a bit 
of clam flesh that the keeper had a little before dropped in, to 
show the children how an anemone eats. The moment the 



THEY FIGHT OVER IT. 20$ 

Prawn reached the spot, he turned and dashed in an instant at 
the Anemone, which was ten times as big as he was, and had 
dozens of long arms to take care of itself, and hold on to its 
food. 

The Anemone was as large as a tea-cup, and had already 
seized the bit of meat, and being particularly fond of its dinner, 
had no notion of giving it up, so it held on for dear life. But 
the saucy Prawn, nothing daunted by its size and its swinging 
arms, pounced on the meat and tried to drag it away. 

The morsel was already swallowed, but he didn't mind that ; 
he thrust a pair of his longest feet down the Anemone's throat, 
and hauled it out, while his other feet kept the enemy's arms 
employed, so that they could not close over the mouth he was 
robbing. 

Sometimes when the Anemone is very hungry, they have a 
regular fight over it, and now and then it manages to get its 
arms up and protect itself ; but this time the impudent rogue 
got away with the food, and carried it off to his home in the 
rocks, where he coolly picked it to pieces with his dainty claws, 
eating the choice parts, and throwing the rest away. 

A Prawn is a curious little fellow, two or three inches long, 
and so delicate in color, and so transparent, that he looks like a 
shadow gliding about in the water. He is an inquisitive little 
body, interested in everything that is going on. He has two 
large round eyes, standing up on stalks, and if you stare at him, 
he will stare back quite as boldly ; but if you come too near, he 
gives one flirt of his tail and springs back out of sight, into 
some quiet nook, where he will gaze out curiously, to see what 
such a big fellow means to do next. 

He is always wide awake at night, and if a light is brought 



206 QUEER PETS AT MARCY*S. 

into the room, his two great eyes will be seen shining out of the 
dark water like round fiery lanterns, or globes of light, while 
nothing of his body can be seen. 

Jerking himself backward is a favorite movement of his, and 
he does it by means of his strong, fan-like tail ; but he can walk 
if he likes. He is particularly well provided with legs ; five 
pairs he has for use, and five pairs for show, called false legs. He 
can walk about on the ten useful legs, and paddle about in the 
water — when not in a hurry — with the ten false ones, which are 
behind the others, and much smaller. 

All these little creatures, who live in shell houses just big 
enough for them, have to grow, you know, as well as others, and 
as they do so they throw off each suit when they outgrow it, 
and another one, a little larger comes on them. To see this 
operation of getting out of the old clothes, is a very curious 
thing, and has been done in an aquarium. 

When the hungry little Prawn stops eating, and seems uneasy 
and anxious, it is time to watch him. He will fidget about till 
he finds a place to suit him, perhaps a convenient piece of weed 
in a quiet corner, and there he will fix himself, tightly hooking 
two or three pairs of legs on to the weed, so that he shall not 
fall while he pulls off his coat. When well fastened, he begins 
to swing from side to side, to loosen his body from its tight- 
fitting shell, which, you must remember, grew on him, and so is 
really a part of him. While he is rocking about, his front legs 
rub against each other, as if to loosen them too, and his eyes 
roll from side to side for the same purpose. 

At last, after some time of this work, the old shell breaks 
apart in the middle, and the delighted little fellow carefully 
draws back his head, antennae, legs, feet, and everything, till 



CURIOUS HOUSE-CLEANING. 20/ 

his eyes appear above the old shell. Thus having safely got 
out the most important part of his body, he gives a sudden 
jerk, and pops out of the rest in a flash, leaving the whole 
empty shell hanging to the weed, as perfect as when he was 
inside, even to the gauzy covering of the eyes, and the fine 
hairs on the legs. It is a wonderful and beautiful thing. 

But the poor Prawn — though free from its cramped house, 
and of course very happy, is extremely soft and weak. He is 
unable to stand up, and falls helpless on the ground, and now 
you see why he was so anxious to find a safe place. This state 
lasts but a few minutes, however ; very soon he gathers himself 
up, and swims off to his dark house in the rocks, where he stays 
till a new shell hardens over his soft body, when he once more 
comes out for something to eat, larger, as well as hungrier and 
fiercer than ever, but most beautiful, with colors clear and bright. 

This interesting little creature has one admirable trait of 
character; he is extremely neat. One of his most important 
duties is cleaning house, and he is fully equipped for the work 
with a pair of scrubbing brushes. Water of course is always 
ready to his hand, his house is just big enough to cover him, and 
nearly every moment that he is not attending to the great busi- 
ness of getting his dinner, he is busily engaged in scrubbing his 
shell house. 

His brushes never are lost, for they are fastened to the ends 
of one pair of his legs. Into every angle, under and over, 
inside and outside his house, he vigorously thrusts them, taking 
off every particle of dirt, and keeping it in a state of beautiful 
polish. 

These scrubbing legs are curious affairs. Each one is covered 
with hairs, standing out every way, and at the ends a sort of 



208 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

hand, or pair of pincers, which is used to pick off any object 
that the brushes will not remove. When his house is in per- 
fect order, he turns his attention to his legs, and his long anten- 
nae, and never rests till each one is clean and ready for use. 
This is done not by the scrubbing brushes, but by his foot-jaws. 

Perhaps you have seen Prawns on the table, with their tails 
curled up under their bodies, and their shells of a bright pink 
color. They are not pink when alive ; they are translucent, as I 
said, and sometimes they look as though they were lighted up 
inside, like a lantern. The shell house is a pretty gray color, 
with delicates stripes of black and buff, and bits of shining 
white, while his legs are dressed in bands of blue and gold. 

His tail consists of plates, that slide back and forth over each 
other, and when spread out make a broad fan. They are edged 
and dotted with pale red and brown. In fact, there is hardly a 
creature in the sea, where there are so many strange objects, 
more beautifully dressed than this little Prawn. 

The baby Prawn is very different from the groAvn-up. His 
body is shaped like an ^%%, and he has one eye in the middle 
of his forehead, and three pairs of swimming feet. But he 
grows fast, his shape alters, he casts off his skin, and after a 
while he has fringes on his legs, and a forked tail. After still 
more changes, he comes out a full-grown Prawn, as I have de- 
scribed him, with two eyes standing up on stalks, two ears in 
the highest pair of antennae, and two noses in the lowest. 

I have spoken of his being always hungry, and rather savage 
in his efforts to supply his wants. You must not think he is 
greedy ; he was made hungry, and never to be satisfied while a 
morsel of food was to be found. It is his only business in life 
to eat, because, if the truth must be told, he's a born scavenger. 



CAUGHT IN A BAMBOO COMB. 20g 

That is why he lives in the edge of the sea, to clear it of all 
unpleasant things, and it is partly owing to the prawn family 
being always hungry, that the sea water is so clear and pure, and 
so beautiful to look at. 

Prawns are lively in an aquarium, and their pranks and antics 
are funny to see ; and they are also said to be very affectionate, 
often holding on to each other, and walking or swimming about 
side by side. 

One of the Prawn's nearest relatives in the sea is the Shrimp, 
which is also considered a nice morsel to eat, and is caught by 
people near the shore for that purpose. It is so much like its 
cousin the Prawn, that many people cannot tell them apart. 

Shrimps are plenty the world over. They are caught in 
Borneo by a sort of big comb of bamboo, which a man in a 
boat drags along the sand, in such a way that when the little 
creatures jump away from the comb, they are nearly sure to fall 
into the boat. In England they are caught with nets, and sorted 
and boiled before leaving the boat, for a very curious reason — 
that their tails may be curled up ! If they die (the shrimper 
says), their tails stand out as in life, and people will not have 
such unnatural monsters on any terms ; but if killed by hot 
water, they " tucks their tails in tidy underneath 'em," and then 
they sell readily. 

Shrimps are common in New York markets, and in San Fran- 
cisco the Chinese have made a great business of preparing them 
for the table. It is a curious operation, and perhaps you would 
like to hear of it. 

To begin with, the lively little fellows are caught in great 
nets, and each boat that goes out brings in about a ton and a 
half at a time. As in England, the naughty little Shrimp has 







m>\ 



<f~ 







FEET DO THE WORK, 



THE TAILS MUST BE CURLED. 211 

to be boiled to make him curl up his tail, and into big vats they 
all go for the purpose. 

When well cooked, and turned of a lovely bright red color, the 
tons of Shrimps are spread out on a hard piece of ground, to dry 
and bleach for a few days, and then a party of our yellow-skinned 
fellow-men come on, to separate the shells and dirt from the 
meat. Remember the vast piles of them, and don't be sur- 
prised to hear that fingers are useless here ; feet do the work ! 
With their clumsy wooden shoes the Chinamen shuffle back and 
forth, till they have broken the shells, when the whole mass is 
put into a machine with three spouts, which does the work of 
thousands of the most nimble fingers. It separates the mate- 
rial into three parts, sending the whole Shrimps out of one 
spout, the crushed ones out of another, and the shells out of the 
third. 

The dried and shriveled Shrimps are then sent to market in 
San Francisco, and sold for six or eight cents a pound, while 
the broken ones are ground into flour, and used in cooking by 
those who like it, and the shells are sent to China to enrich the 
tea-plants. 

The Shrimp has many cousins ; the Mantis Shrimp, who lives 
on the seaweed and catches little water creatures as the Mantis 
does flies: the Caddis Shrimp, who builds himself a house; the 
Gouty Shrimp, whose joints look swelled ; the Scarlet Shrimp, 
who doesn't wait till he's boiled to turn red ; the Sword Shrimp, 
from Japan; the Chameleon Shrimp, who changes his color; the 
Opossum Shrimp, who carries her eggs in a bag, and the Spiny 
Shrimp, who wears his teeth outside. 

You see it is a large family, and a curious one to study, I 
assure you. 



212 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



\ CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. 

ALWAYS IN TROUBLE. 

There was one fellow in the Aquarium who amused the visit- 
ors very much, by constantly getting himself into trouble. One 
would think he was an awkward creature, just learning to swim, 
instead of an old salt, born and brought up, you may say, in the 
briny deep. 

He is a Horse-Foot Crab, or Limulus, and all his distress is 
caused by ambition. Not contented with the sort of life for 
which he was fitted, he sets his heart on doing the one thing 
impossible to him. His only desire seems to be to climb, and 
climbing is a thing that Limulus cannot do. 

He spends his time in that pleasant home, in trying to scale 
the rocks, or the side of his glass house, losing his balance, and 
falling over on to his back, then wildly pawing the air — or the 
water — with all his many legs, and violently flapping the curious 
plates of which his body seems to be made, to turn himself over. 

Neither pawing nor flapping are of the least use, and he 
slowly falls to the ground, where another member begins to 
help. This is the tail, long and stiff, and very strong. With 
the tail the Horse-Foot pushes on the ground, and perhaps after 
a long time he will get back to his natural position. 

Now one would think he would be wiser about that climbing 
business ; but no ! away he goes, after a few minutes' rest, and 



A NEIGHBOR'S DEED. 213 

up that rock he is determined to walk. He gets up a few- 
inches, till nearly straight, when over he goes again, flapping 
and struggling as before. 

This he keeps up nearly all the time. Go to any tank where 
lives a Limulus, and there are several, and you will nearly always 
see one or more on his back, making the wildest efforts to turn 
over, and looking so distressed, that you feel as if you must run 
to the keeper for help. You see at once that this Crab is not 
very bright, and, in fact, the keepers say that he is perfectly 
stupid. 

The day the children were there, however, they saw a curious 
scene, that looked very much like a kind and neighborly act, in 
one of these creatures, though the keeper insisted it was mere 
accident, and not in the least intentional. For my part I don't 
believe he knows, and I shall continue to believe that at least 
one Limulus has a notion in his head. 

This is the story : A small Limulus, about the size of a silver 
dollar, lay struggling on his back, where he had fallen, when one 
of his brethren, a little smaller, started out for a walk. 

First he paid a visit to a Hermit Crab, who was lolling out 
of his house — borrowed from a Whelk who doesn't want a 
house any more — looking about for any stray bit of food that 
might fall his way. Over the Hermit's big shell went Limulus, 
thrusting his feet into every crack and corner, when no sooner 
did he reach the door, with his long prying legs, than Mr. 
Hermit popped into his back room, away out of the reach of 
his impertinent neighbor, and pulled the open door of his house 
down towards the ground, so that no one could get in. 

On went the Horse-Foot, and soon came to his bigger rela- 
tive, struggling on his back. Walking up close to him, he 



214 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

deliberately bent down that side, put his shell under the edge 
of the other, and gave a sudden push, as though trying to turn 
him over. 



A FRIEND IN NEED. 



The Crab went partly over, but fell back. Then the neigh- 
borly fellow backed a little farther off, and tried it again, with 
more force. This time he nearly did it, and a third time he 
made the attempt, starting further back, and moving much 



EYES ON TOP OF THE HOUSE. 21 5 

more violently. This time the little fellow flopped over, and 
the other one walked directly away. 

Now perhaps it was an accident, but Marcy will always be- 
lieve that he knew what he was about. She was curious to see 
what the relieved little fellow would do, if he would know 
enough to keep right side up, so she watched him. He didn't ; 
if you'll believe me, it was not one minute before he was back 
again, worse than before, for he was between a rock and the 
glass, where it seemed as though he could never get up, not 
even with the help of a friend. Marcy was disgusted with his 
stupidity, and left him, and he may be there yet for all I know. 

The Horse-Foot Crab is a curious fellow. He is shaped like 
the bottom of a horse's foot, and his shell is in three parts, two 
covering his body, and the third, long and sharp, to cover the 
tail. 

His eyes stand up on the top of his house, like a pair of 
dormer windows, and another pair of what are called simple 
eyes are in front of these. His teeth are — where you would 
never suspect teeth to be — on his legs ! 

He carries his house on his back, like most of the little crea- 
tures that live in the sea, and when he gets too big for one,- he 
just comes out of it, and another one grows for him. 

The baby Limulus is a quarter of an inch broad, or about 
as big as a small pea, and an old one is sometimes two feet, so 
you see he moves into a great number of houses while he is 
growing ; in fact it is said that he never stays more than a year 
in one house. He would do to join the army of people who 
live in rented houses in a large city, and move every spring. 

It is a curious thing to see him move out of an old house, 
that he has grown too big to fit. He has no trouble, as do others 



2i6 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

of the crab family, no twisting and pulling for him ; he simply 
opens the front door — as it were — and comes out. It is ex- 
tremely funny ; it looks as though he came out of himself. 

Limulus, when he chooses his home, lives in the mud and 
sand, near the shore, and he's a famous digger. The front of 
his shell is shaped something like a chopping-knife, and when he 
braces himself with his stiff tail, and bends down this front, he 
can dig himself out of sight very quickly, especially as all his 
numerous feet help push out the sand on each side. 

This digging is most useful when the Mother Limulus gets 
ready to make her nursery, in the spring. For some time she 
carries the eggs about with her, under her shell house. Some- 
times there are as many as half a pint, or a coffee-cup full. 

But at last she goes up on shore when the tide is in, that is, 
the water is high up on the sand, and digs a hole just under 
water, where part of the day it is dry, and the warm sun 
shines on it, and here she leaves the eggs. The next wave 
covers them with sand, and she goes away happy, knowing that 
the sun will hatch them out, and that the baby Crabs will be 
wise enough to take care of themselves the minute they come 
out of the shell. 

She is quite right, of course. In five or six weeks, out of 
every one of those eggs comes a Limulus baby, as big as a very 
small pea, and like its mother, only without a tail. There must 
be lively times around the sand nest, for these atoms of creatures 
run then and swim at once. 

Each young Crab leaves a funny little track in the mud when 
it walks, two rows of small foot-prints. But after it moves out of 
its baby house, in about a month, it appears with a tail, and then 
the track is changed by a small furrow between the foot-prints. 



TAKING DINNER UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 



217 



This family is carnivorous, that is to say, they eat meat, 
generally soft worms ; and as I told you, they have teeth on 
their legs, and not in the mouth like other people. The mouth 
— you must know — is placed near the legs, to be handy to the 
teeth, and their way of eating is curious. 

As they always draw the food under the shell house, and eat 
in private, no one knew exactly how it was done, till a gentle- 
man — Rev. Mr. Lockwood — had one 
in his aquarium, and determined to 
peep into the house and see how the 
thing was managed. 

He therefore let Mr. Limulus get 
very hungry, and then gave him a 
piece of meat which of course he at 
once pulled out of sight, and began 
to eat. When he had got well at 
work, Mr. Lockwood coolly tipped 
his house over, and since it is only 
a roof, he could see just how the 
operation was carried on. 

The Crab was too hungry to mind, 
and went on with his dinner, and 
this is the way he did : With the 
claws of his two hinder legs he held 
the food tightly, and the teeth on the 
other four pairs rasped and tore it 
to bits, before it entered the mouth. 
He is well provided with eating tools, 
for he has eight jaws, and about a hundred and fifty teeth. 

Limulus is the latin name of this curious fellow. He is also 




FOR A SAUCEPAN. 



2l8 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



called King Crab, and one of the family living in the island of 
Molucca is called in the books, the Long-tailed Molucca Crab, 
and the long spiny covering of his tail is made into a dangerous 
arrow tip. Another of the family living in the East Indies, is 
named by the people the Saucepan Crab, because, alas ! when 
dead and eaten up, and robbed of his house, it makes — with the 
tail for a handle — a very useful saucepan, or ladle to dip water. 




CUDJO WAS ALWAYS READY FOR MISCHIEF. (ScC Page 70.) 



IN A STONE COTTAGE, 



219 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND. 

THE LITTLE HERMIT. 

On the side of a rock, in the same glass house with Limulus, 
lives a curious little fellow, who spends life entirely in fishing ; 
yet — strange as you may think it — he lives in a small stone cot- 
tage of his own, and never goes out. He does his fishing by 
opening a pair of folding-doors at the top of his house, and 
throwing his nets into the water, and his whole life is strange 
and marvelous. 

The children were much amused to watch this funny opera- 
tion of fishing, and interested in the story of his life, which is 
more wonderful than a fairy tale. 

He did not begin life as a hermit — far from it ! He was a 
lively little atom of a creature, almost too small to be seen, and 
quite too small to be examined, without a microscope. He was 
an hundredth of an inch long. His dress was a fashionable 
smoke color, not because it is fashionable, however, but because 
all his family since the world began have worn the same shade. 
Fashions don't change under the green waves. 

You have seen a baby who feels well throw his arms and legs, 
and act as though he wanted to fly? — just so the baby Hermit 
threw his members; and having the advantage over a human 
baby of six legs and a light body, he jerked himself about in 
the water in a very lively way. A strange-looking fellow he 



220 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

was. He had a sort of shield rounding up over his back, and 
ending in a slender point, with teeth on the edges. Under this 
shield was his body, with a proboscis and six legs — queer legs 
they were too — without feet, claws, or even hooks. He could 
neither walk, grasp, nor climb. 

Little did he care for that ! — swimming was what he wanted 
to do, and for that use nothing could be better than the fringe 
of stout hairs along one edge of each leg. Flapping at the 
same moment his six fringed legs, the little fellow could jerk 
himself about as much as he liked. To tell the truth, he 
behaved more like a frivolous young water flea, than like a 
sedate hermit. I forgot to tell you that he had a pair of horns 
and one eye — only one, though it was a nice big black one, 
directly in front. 

Perhaps the strangest thing about him, in those young days, 
was the habit he had of always swimming on his back. But 
before long he threw off his first skin, and came out somewhat 
larger (one-seventieth of an inch), and with some improvements. 
His sharp tail was longer, his horns had a delicate brush of hairs 
on the ends, and he had a new pair of spines in front. 

Now he began to take a more serious view of life, and though 
he still frolicked about in the water, he did sometimes alight on 
a sea-weed. The next time he threw off his old clothes, he 
came out in an altogether new style, and the third time he was 
different still. He had now a pair of shells, hinged together 
like oyster shells, his head was larger, he had two more pairs of 
legs, and — strangest of all — his one big eye had divided and 
become two. 

By this time he began to tire of his childish, playful life, and 
to long for peace and quiet. He looked around for a place to 



SETTLED FOR LIFE. 221 

settle. Settling is a serious matter for his family, for where he 
once fixes himself there he spends the rest of his life. He is not 
very particular, however; a good place to hold on to, under 
water, is all he asks. A rock, a ship's bottom, a floating bit 
of wood, the back of a turtle, a water-snake, or a whale — either 
of those will do. Our young hermit soon settled upon a spot, 
and proceeded to make life-long arrangements. 

This was the most wonderful operation of his strange life. He 
put his head against the rock — or whatever he selected — the two 
large antennae mysteriously poured out a quantity of natural 
glue laid up for the purpose, and lo ! — he was fastened for life ! 
The whole front of his head and his great antennae were in a 
moment tightly glued, and there he was held by the head for 
life. No storm could tear him away, and even after death it is 
almost impossible to loosen the hold. 

Now for the last time the little hermit threw off his dress, 
and a great change appeared. From that day he cared but for 
two things — to be quiet and to eat. Eyes were useless, so away 
they went with the old clothes. The two shells went also. The 
legs came out longer and more hairy, and in fact became arms, 
able to grasp things. The body was shrunk almost to nothing, 
and above all he had a new house. It was a stony shell, and 
about the shape of a hut, with one opening on the top closed 
by a pair of doors beneath (or inside). 

Now he was full grown, and how big do you suppose ? — about 
the size of a large pea. He is called the Acorn Barnacle. He 
has become a hermit, and will never put his head out of doors. 
Let us see how he lives, and fishes for his dinner. This opera- 
tion can be seen clearly, only by means of the microscope, when 
it becomes a beautiful sight. The folding-doors at the top of 



222 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

the house open, and out comes a dainty hand of twenty-four 
long fingers. It spreads out like a fan for a moment, then shuts 
up and draws back into the stone cottage with whatever tiny 
atom it has grasped. The next minute it comes out again, 
makes another grab, and so it goes on. 

That little hand is a marvelous thing. It has nearly five hun- 
dred joints, each of which is worked by its own muscles, which 
makes it very flexible. Then each joint has a good supply of 
stiff hairs, which stand out from it, and each hair has smaller 
hairs — also standing out. This forms the most perfect fishing 
net that can be made — all for the comfort of a little atom of a 
Barnacle, living in a stone house a third of an inch high ! The 
finest hairs on his fingers are delicately sensitive. No sooner 
does the smallest object — so small it can only be seen through 
a microscope — touch the tip of one of these hairs, than the 
hand closes on it, and the morsel goes into the small stone 
house. 

There are several different kinds of Barnacles, but they all 
go through about the same changes. 

How were all these things found out? Not by spending an 
hour before the glass house on that visit to the Aquarium, but 
by reading and hearing about the work of scientific men, who 
have kept Barnacles in aquaria and studied their ways. Much 
study has been given to this one little hermit fisherman at the 
bottom of the sea, 



THE PRETTIEST OF ALL, 



223 




A&ai«.«»axk>v 



OUR JAPANESE GUEST. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD. 



A DISTINGUISHED JAPANESE. 



The beautiful creature you see in this picture was the most 
distinguished personage in the Aquarium when the children 
visited it. She occupied the front tank, and had a crowd of 
visitors about her all the time. She was not in the least 



224 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

embarrassed by the wall of staring faces. She swam easily and 
gracefully through the clear water, drawing her wonderful lace- 
like train behind her, and only now and then cast her eyes over 
the admiring crowd. 

She had her glass house all to herself, and she was perhaps 
the most beautiful fish in the world, quite worthy to be called 
the queen of the Gold-Fish family, to which she belonged. Her 
body was of the richest red golden color, more beautiful than 
you see in the ordinary gold-fish, and her tail, in three divisions, 
was the most exquisite pearly white, so delicate and flexible, 
that, as she slowly and with great dignity sailed about in solitary 
grandeur, it trailed after her, waving gracefully in the water, 
like the daintiest of silk or lace fabrics. 

Of course she came from that land of queer things, Japan, 
where she was a household pet, and she had some adventures 
quite different from the usual placid life of a gold-fish. 

Her name was Kingiyo, which is Japanese for gold-fish, and 
queer as she looked to us, she left plenty of relatives in her own 
country, where her whole family live in ponds in the private 
gardens, and are carefully tended and petted by the family to 
which they belong. 

An American gentleman, Mr. Gill, of Baltimore, whose busi- 
ness called him to that country, was so pleased with the beauti- 
ful creatures, that he resolved to bring some home, and try to 
domesticate them, so that we might have them for pets, instead 
of the common gold-fish. 

After trying several times without success, he started with a 
large family of about eighty, among whom was the one in the 
picture. First, you know, they had a long sea voyage from 
Japan to San Francisco, and then — which was worse — a ten 



TROUBLES ON THE VOYAGE. 225 

days' ride on the railway, and all the time they must have plenty 
of water, or they would die. 

They started on the long journey in a tank full of water, and 
trouble began with the motion of the ship, which spilled it out, 
and even slopped over the unfortunate fish themselves. Then 
their anxious guardian had built a smaller tank, which was hung 
up, so that it would swing like a hammock. 

Next they must have been homesick, or at least seasick, for 
a dreadful fit seized the elders of the family, so that they fell 
upon the youngsters, and ate them up ! Twenty fair young 
Kingiyos perished in that monstrous way, and though nearly 
all fish have a lurking desire to devour their own babies, these 
cultivated pets were supposed to be much too civilized to yield 
to the temptation. 

However, on reaching San Francisco, there were left of the 
large party but seventeen, and these quite weak and miserable. 
And now came the worst part of the journey. As traveling 
arrangement for the cars, Mr. Gill provided a tin can, with holes 
for air, and cushions of sponges on the sides, so that they 
should not be hurt. The whole can he hung by India-rubber, and 
thus he hoped to get his troublesome pets home to Baltimore. 

But it is a ride of several days and nights, and two or three 
times the whole party seemed nearly dead of exhaustion. They 
were revived by fresh water, and once by quantities of Rocky 
Mountain snow, and at last he reached Baltimore with eight 
fish, just one-tenth of the number he started with. 

They were put into a large tank, fed with chopped liver, and 
he hoped his trouble was over. It was then that he sent the 
one the children saw, to make a visit to the New York Aqua- 
rium, so that we could all see the beautiful creature. 



226 QUEER PETS AT MARCYS. 

She was there for some time, but after a while went back to 
Baltimore, and on her return to the Aquarium was accompanied 
by several of her babies ; funny little dots of things they were, 
but alas! without the beautiful, silky, triple tail of their mamma. 

Some of the family in Baltimore, which are still living after 
five years, are partly gold and partly silver, and these are very 
rare, even in Japan. A pair of these were named Mr. and Mrs. 
He-No, and were treated with great respect and consideration. 

One day, while the Kingiyo was in its tank in the Aquarium, 
a Japanese student chanced to visit the room, and came upon 
the native of his home. He tells how he felt, in a letter to 
Japan, and this is the bit, taken from a Tokio paper: 

" Is it strange that I felt a sort of kinship existing between me 
and this lonely creature on that spot? I brought my face close 
to the tank, whispered, in Japanese, ' Ohayan, Mr. Kingiyo ! 
when lo and behold, Mr. Kingiyo made straight for my face, and 
seemed to make signs of recognition to me." 

Of the eight fish that survived, though all were much richer 
and more beautiful than the common gold-fish, only two had 
the exquisite tail of the picture, and one of these was kept in a 
small lake in the yard of Mr. Gill. Being always kindly treated, 
well fed, and, above all, never frightened, he soon became veiy 
tame, as indeed they all did. He would follow his master 
around the pond, take food from his hand, and even let him 
take him out of the water, without seeming at all alarmed. 

His tameness was the cause of the death, I'm sorry to say, of 
the last of the Long-Tailed Gold -Fish, for a hungry pussy 
caught him out of the water and ate him up. How should she 
know what a choice pet he was ! 

In the lake are still left about fifty American-born Kingiyo 



NOT WHAT HE LOOKS TO BE, 



227 



babies, now grown up, but though they are very beautiful, not 
one has the rare and wonderful silken tail of the Japanese par- 
ents. There are also two of the original family, as I said. They 
are about six inches long, of very rich dark color reddish gold, 
spotted with silvery white. 

Next to the home of 
the Kingiyo were two 
tanks that interested the 
children, because of the 
strange creatures they 
saw there. The first one 
held the Skate, which 
you see in this picture. 
He has several names 
besides the common one 
of Skate, such as Thorn- 
back Ray, and Prickly 
Ray, all given because 
of the great number of 
sharp spines, or thorns, 
with which his back is 
covered, to the very end 
of his long tail. 

The picture shows the 
under side of his body, which is a beautiful silvery white, hav- 
ing on it what looks like an old man's face, but is really the 
mouth, the nostrils, and the gill openings. The back is brown, 
and somewhat spotted. 

The Skate acts as though he knew the under side of his body 
is the most curious, for he delights in pressing himself flat 




SHOWING OFF. 



228 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

against the glass, where visitors can look at him as long as they 
like. 

But the most graceful thing is his swimming. He moves 
through the water simply by flapping his two thin, wing-like 
fins, and he looks as though he were flying, or waving his silvery 
cloak as he goes. 

Pretty as he looks in the tank, he can be very angry, and he 
knows how to use his thorny tail as a weapon. He bends his 
tail towards his head, till it nearly touches and he looks like a 
bow, and then lets it fly suddenly back, like a whip lash, giving 
a terrible blow, and making painful wounds. 

The baby Skate comes out of a most curious ^^^. It is 
shaped like what is called a hand-barrow, or, if you never saw 
one of those, like a flat, square pin-cushion, with a handle like 
a coarse string, at each corner. The whole ^g^^ handles and 
all, is black and leathery, and empty ones are often picked up 
on the sea-shore. 

Mamma Skate takes this ^^'g in her mouth, and fastens the 
string-like handles to a sea-weed, or an oyster-shell, or a rock, 
to keep it safe. The baby himself, when a few inches long, is 
one of the most graceful and elegant creatures in the sea. His 
colors are beautiful, and his under parts look like mother-of- 
pearl. 

The Skate eats crabs, and other little fellows who live in shell 
houses, and has a terrible set of teeth to crush them with. 

The next tank held these two horrible-looking objects, per- 
haps as a contrast to the beautiful Skate and Kingiyo. The 
upper one, who looks about the head like a rag bag come to 
life, is the Sea Raven (and it's an insult to the bird to name it 
so), or the Deep-Water Sculpin, which sounds more suitable. 



A PAIR OF ODD FELLOWS. 229 

He's not more interesting than he looks. He is purple or red 
on the back, yellow below, and about two feet long. His body 




NOT SO BAD AS THEY LOOK. 



is soft, and covered with little knobs, and his head is dec- 
orated with spines, and hanging bits of fleshy skin, which give 
him a hideous look. 



230 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

Fishermen sometimes catch him in the net with cod, and they 
hate and fear him, as though he was poisonous, though he is not 
known to be so. 

The lower fish in the picture, who Hes grinning from ear to 
ear — you may say — on the ground, is the Toad-Fish. Though 
I can't say he is more beautiful than the Sculpin, he is more in- 
teresting, because of one rather odd habit, for a fish. 

The Mother Toad-Fish takes care of her babies. At least so 
it is supposed, because when one is found in its home, a few 
inches under water at low tide, it is always lying under a rock, 
in a sort of nest it has hollowed out for itself, and fastened to 
the rock which forms the roof, are the babies. 

There are generally several hundreds of these — you know 
fishes have large families. They may be tiny eggs, no bigger 
than small shot, or they may be lively young fish half an inch 
long ; still there they stay, stuck tight to the roof, till they are 
big enough to swim around and take care of themselves. 

Below this nursery roof is always found a grown-up Toad- 
Fish, probably the mother, lying with head out of the door like 
a dog in his kennel. 

This fish also wears some of the rags of skin, hanging from 
the chin like a fringe, and it is of a yellowish color, with black 
spots and bands. It is not more than a foot long, and it has 
really beautiful eyes, which are the only things at all attractive 
in its looks. 



THE STRANGEST OF PETS. 



231 




THE WHOLE FAMILY, 



CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH. 



THE BABY THAT S BURIED IN SAND, 



One of the things most interesting to Ralph in the Aquarium, 
was a tank containing a family of Alligators. There was the 
old one, three or four feet long, lying half out of the water, and 
so perfectly immovable, that he could not at first tell whether 
it was stuffed or alive, and a troop of little ones, in every imag- 
inable position, but as quiet as their ancient relative. 

Seeing his interest in these creatures, a keeper pointed out to 
him a tank filled with little fellows, from eight to twelve inches 
long, which he said were ladies' pets, come there to board for 
the winter. Marcy was greatly amused at the idea of ladies 
being reduced to the necessity of making pets of these usually 
stupid animals, but she learned that it was fashionable for 
people who went to Florida, to bring back Alligators, keep them 
as long as they could endure them, and finally give them 



232 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

to some naturalist, or hand them over to the Aquarium as 
boarders. 

She had not then heard the story of Gus, which is true in 
every word, and which I'm now going to tell you. 

The story begins in Florida, where his mother, in the odd way 
customary with her, buried the whole family of babies in the 
sand. Queer as this seems, it is the best way for Alligator 
babies, because it is the only safe place she can find for them, 
when wrapped up in their egg-shell cradles, and unable to care 
for themselves. 

The sea is full of hungry creatures, and Alligator eggs are 
choice morsels to many of them. Moreover, the unfortunate 
mother would be worse off than the famous old woman who 
lived in a shoe, for she has fifty or sixty little ones, all babies 
together. Worst of all, the father, like many other wild fathers, 
is very fond of the children — to eat ! 

The wise mother therefore carefully buries the eggs in a sunny 
place in the sand ; the warm sun of Florida hatches them out 
for her; and when the little fellows get out — only four or five 
inches long — they find her waiting to show them the way to the 
water. She takes care of them till their legs get strong, and 
their scaly coats grow hard and tough, and they can protect 
themselves. If an enemy comes near that alarms the babies, 
the mother opens her mouth, when they all run down her throat, 
and she swims off with them. At least this story is told by 
people who profess to have seen it. 

The life of an Alligator in Florida is very pleasant — to him. 
When it is warm he basks in the sun, and only moves to hunt 
up a fish to eat, or to snatch a dog, or even a child, that chances 
to get too near him. 



A LITTLE DIFFERENCE OF OPINION. 233 

I read a little story of one about seven feet long, who took a 
lancy to have a calf for his dinner. Fortunately the calf's 
mother was a plucky cow, and she did not agree to this. He 
started for the little one, and the cow started for him. He 
struck at her furiously with his tail, and once knocked her over, 
and sent her rolling for ten feet. Then he rushed at her and 
tried to seize her nose, but she sprang to her feet, caught 
him on her horns, and threw him over backwards. Before he 
could get up she was on him again, and tossed him high in the 
air, when he fell into the water, and changed his mind about 
veal for dinner. The cow looked after him, but as he did not 
come out again, she and her calf walked off home. 

If he cannot find any small animal, he will exert himself to 
catch a larger one, an ox, or a man. His appetite satisfied, he 
settles back into the quiet rest he prefers. When it grows cold 
he merely buries himself in the mud, and neither moves nor 
eats till the spring sun warms him to life again. 

But to return to the story of Gus. He was caught before he 
found his mother, and passed his life in quite a different way 
from the rest of his family. He was sold to a young lady from 
the North, whom we will call Miss Laura, and by her was named 
St. Augustine, in honor of his native place. 

She resolved to bring him home to New York with her, and 
for traveling arrangements she provided a long, narrow box, 
lined with cotton, and furnished with air holes, and in this com- 
fortable style he took the long journey. 

To be sure he could not move about, but the Alligator family 

are not restless, nor nervous. They delight to spend hours in 

one position, as the children saw them at the Aquarium, often 

indeed such as would appear to be the most tiresome they 
14 



234 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

could get into. No doubt the little fellow enjoyed his trip ; but 
whether he did or not he never complained, and he arrived safe 
and well at his future home. 

In Miss Laura's pleasant home Master Gus had free run of 
the house. His private treasures, always kept in his mistress's 
room, were a bed, with a regular bed-quilt, and a water-tank 
where he could bathe, or perhaps I should say soak, for lying 
in the water with only the tip of his nose out was one of his 
pleasures. 

In this happy home the little fellow lived and grew for three 
years. At the end of that time he was sixteen inches long, 
tail and all. His mother was perhaps from ten to fifteen feet 
long ; but alligators are slow of growth, and Gus was fully large 
enough for his age. 

He was a queer pet. For one thing, he would never eat 
while any one looked on. His food consisted mostly of clams, 
of which his mistress bought half a dozen three times a week. 
The meat was made ready and put into his water-tank, and after 
a while it would disappear; but no one ever saw him touch it. 

He was rather pretty for an Alligator, which looks, when full 
grown, like an old muddy log. His tight-fitting suit was of black, 
with pretty, bright yellow stripes running across, from his neck to 
the tip of his tail. His head was long, and looked almost exactly 
like a dried prune, while his dull eyes were so near the color of 
his skin, that at first they could hardly be seen. His mouth 
reached — you may say — from ear to ear, and when open, it 
seemed to fairly split his head. He had no teeth when young, 
but a nice long place for them. The mouth was curious inside ; 
in the first place his tongue was fastened down its whole length, 
and then the opening of the throat was shut by a kind of door. 



PUTTING GUS TO BED. 235 

or plate, which covered it entirely, so that nothing could be 
forced down. The beauty of this arrangement is, that in the 
wild state, the Alligator family prepare their prey for eating by 
holding it under water till it drowns. In this process, of course 
the creature's own mouth is open, and but for the useful little 
door to the throat much water would run down, and be un- 
pleasant. 

His feet, of which he had four, you know, were partly webbed, 
to help him in swimming, and turned in when he walked, so that 
he was a clumsy waddler on land, and looked droll enough strid- 
ing across the floor in his dignified way. He was quite lively 
in the water, however, and he could run very fast in his clumsy 
style on land, if he chose, though he rarely did. 

His head he could turn to one side a little, but his tail was as 
useful to him as a whip. He could thrash it around furiously, 
and indeed, when full grown, an Alligator's tail is almost as 
much to be dreaded as his teeth. 

He was quite a silent little creature ; the only sound he ever 
made being a sort of hissing bark, like a bark in a whisper, 
which he would utter when tapped on the head. 

Master Gus was a pet, and therefore, as I said, his life was not 
much like that of his brothers, which were left on the river 
bank in Florida. One thing he had, which they never heard 
of, and that was a regular bed, into which he was snugly tucked 
every night. The bed was of cotton, and the bedstead was a 
box. Under the bed Gus would creep, for he never grew civil- 
ized enough to sleep on it, and his kind mistress would spread 
a quilt or comfortable over him, and leave him for the night, 
with his droll black nose just peeping out, so that he could 
breathe. 



236 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

He was fond of taking an airing out of doors, and Miss Laura 
often carried him out and let him walk about, though when he 
was nearly three years old, she was horrified one day to see 
him wheel around, and snap his jaws at a child who came near 
him, when she hoped she had cultivated all the wildness out of 
him. But " blood will tell," as the old saying is, and no doubt 
Gus was at heart a savage Alligator, though he never showed 
it to Miss Laura. 

The most attractive thing about Gus, and the thing that won 
his mistress's heart completely, was his devoted attachment 
to her. He not only knew his name, and would come when 
called, but he would follow her everywhere, and go to meet 
and welcome her. The greatest happiness of his life was to lie 
on her arm, or her shoulder, where he would stay for hours per- 
fectly motionless, and apparently almost too happy to breathe. 

At last there came a crisis in the life of poor Gus. Miss 
Laura was going on a long journey, and thought she could not 
take a sixteen-inch-long Alligator with her, so she gave him 
away to a lady who she knew would care for him, and left 
him with Miss Dora. 

In this lady's home, delightful quarters were fitted up espe- 
cially for him, since the family were not so fond of Alligators 
as to like them all over the house. His new residence was 
between the chimney and the outer wall of his mistress's room, 
and was about two feet wide by six feet long; quite a spacious 
home for a little fellow not of a roving disposition. It was 
divided from the room by a board wall, over which he could not 
climb. 

No sooner was Miss Laura gone, than Master Gus began to 
pine. He retired to the further end of his home, and put his 



A BROKEN HEART? 237 

head in the corner, refusing to eat or to be comforted, which 
was his way of showing grief. Nothing could induce him to 
stir, until Miss Dora imitated his beloved old mistress's voice. 
When he heard that, he instantly turned his head and gave her 
one look, but, evidently disappointed, moved it sadly back to 
his corner, and could not be deceived again. 

Some days passed in this sorrowful manner, but at last happi- 
ness came back to him. Something occurred to prevent Miss 
Laura's journey, and she came to pay him a last visit. 

When she entered the room she was talking, and the instant 
her voice struck his ear, Master Gus was out of the corner, and 
hurrying to the wall, where he held his head up most implor- 
ingly, asking as plainly as words could have done, to be taken 
up. She could not resist the appeal, of course, and she took 
him in her arms and sat down, petting and caressing him. 

As for Gus, he was evidently almost too full of joy to live. 
He held up his head and gazed in her face, *' with his soul in 
his eyes," as Miss Dora said. He had recovered his idol, and 
evidently determined in his savage heart that she should never 
leave him again. 

She never did ; for whenever she attempted to put him down, 
he clung to her, and ran after her, with such a despairing ear- 
nestness, that she had not the heart to grieve him so deeply. 
Many times she tried to get him into his bed — for night came 
on — or to put him down, but every time his utter despair was 
so plain that she could not bring herself to do it. 

Now so tragic an attachment in an animal of his family 
might become somewhat embarrassing. But a happy fate was 
prepared for the poor little fellow, the happiest possible for 
him. At about one o'clock that night he quietly died in her 



238 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

arms. Whether of a broken heart, or of too great joy — who can 
tell? 

He was, of course, suitably buried, and many epitaphs were 
suggested by friends, of which I will give you two, to show you 
both sides of the family sentiment about him, for — as you will 
see — not every one loved poor St. Augustine. 

{By an Enemy.) 

" Here lies a 'Gator whose name was Gus, 
Who died after making an awful fuss ; 
His tail was longer than all the rest : 
Farewell, thou horrid, scaly pest." 

{By a Friend.) 
" St. Augustine, we grieve for thee, 
Thy loss we much deplore ; 
We ne'er shall see thee smile again, 

Nor sprawl across the floor. 
Thine open countenance is closed, 

Thou'lt never bark again. 
We'll stuff thy carcass and weep well. 
Although we weep in vain." 

Another Alligator baby that lived in a house, was the prop- 
erty of a youth, and was named Nebuchadnezzar (for short, I 
suppose). When first captured he was six or eight inches long, 
and after his journey from Florida to New York, was established 
in a glass tank, having water, and rockwork, on which he could 
sun himself. 

Wishing to keep him small, lest he should get beyond home 



TAME ALLIGATOR TRICKS. 239 

management, he was fed but once a week, with any fresh meat 
that was convenient. When his young master took him into 
the country for -the summer, he fed him on httle minnows 
w^hich he caught for him. These the AlHgator was very fond 
of, and would snap at them, swallowing them instantly ; but 
when his dinner was of common meat, he insisted on being 
fed with a spoon, or at the least a stick. 

Alligators do not chew ; they swallow their food whole : and 
sometimes — like children who try to do in the same way — they 
choke. When this happened to Nebuchadnezzar, his master 
promptly opened his throat with a hair-pin, and pushed the 
troublesome morsel down to its proper place, when the animal 
calmly went on with his meal. 

Nebuchadnezzar learned to know his master, and to perform 
several tricks, which he showed off to company. He would 
lie on his back when put there, though it is a position an Alliga- 
tor detests, and will never submit to, till educated. Moreover, 
he would lie perfectly still, till informed — by touching his nose 
with a straw — that he might turn over. 

He would also open his mouth and bark to order. You may 
not think these tricks are much, but when you remember the 
creature who did them, and how sluggish and stupid he usually 
seems, you can see that they are quite wonderful. 

He was fond of his young master, who carried him about in 
his pocket, and let him sleep in his bed, under the pillow, or by 
his side. 

This little creature was very handy with his hind feet. He 
would scratch his head, and even poke his food into his mouth 
with one. His master had a fancy for trying experiments, to see 
what he would do, and a favorite one was to slip over Nebu- 



240 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

chadnezzar's head a small skin case, in which he carried his 
knife. 

No one likes his head in a bag, of course, and the Alligator 
would at once give his whole mind to removing the nuisance. 
First he would bring up one hind foot and give it a poke, and 
then he would try the other. If both failed, he brought around 
his most useful member — the tail — and with that generally suc- 
ceeded in freeing himself. 

He was fond of caresses, liked to be stroked as a cat does. 
The mother of his master (into whose hands fell many pets to 
care for) often made him happy in this way, and he repaid her 
by a pleasant noise, almost like singing, quite different from a 
cat's purr, yet used in the same way, to express content, and so 
unlike any sound we are familiar with, that I cannot exactly 
describe it. 

When he was angry or teazed, he would hiss like a snake, and 
when pleased he would bark, making a noise like the bark of a 
dog a long way off, or in a whisper, as I said of Gus. 

This little fellow was different from the Alligators in the 
Aquarium, being extremely lively. He delighted to make tours 
about the house, though when allowed to do so, he collected on 
himself every bit of dust on the carpet. It seemed to stick to 
him, and he would come out from under furniture completely 
hidden under the load. 

After this pet had lived in the glass house some time, his 
master brought himx a companion or two, to relieve his solitude. 
The new-comers were Turtles, and Mr. Nebuchadnezzar at once 
declared war, considering them intruders on his premises. He 
made up his mind that Turtle was good to eat, and Turtle he 
would have, so he watched his chance. 



PEACE IN THE FAMILY. 241 

But a Turtle is particularly well protected against disturb- 
ance, for he carries on his back his own shell house, into which 
he can instantly draw head and feet, if things look squally out- 
side. 

Moreover, the big Turtle had evidently decided to dine on 
Alligator meat, so they came to blows. Several times they 
had fights, and in every case the Turtle had the best of it. 

At last, seeing that they would not be friends, their master 
divided the glass house in the middle, by a partition, also of 
glass, and let each stay on his own side. The result of this 
was, that getting used to seeing each other, they after a while 
became reconciled, and when the dividing partition was taken 
out, became the best of friends, eating together, and sleeping 
in a promiscuous pile, the Alligator, who had no shell house, 
being usually on the outside, in one of the uncomfortable posi- 
tions an Alligator will assume to be comfortable. 

Four years Master Nebuchadnezzar lived in this family, and 
he had grown to be about a foot and a half long, which, though 
quite large for an Alligator pet, is really hardly more than a 
baby, when you remember that they grow to fifteen, and even 
twenty feet in length. He never showed any savageness to 
people, no desire to bite, or even to be cross. 

But in spite of the best care, like most pets, he died, and was 
buried with grand honors. 



242 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH. 

LIFE IN A LACE HOUSE. 

In a house so full of pet-lovers, I need hardly say there was 
always at least one canary-bird. They were never closely con- 
fined to their cages, but flew about the house as they liked, 
excepting in the summer, when windows were open, and then 
they were kept in Marcy's room, where there were wire gauze 
windows, and the door was always closed. 

Dick, the bird they had at the time I am telling of, was a 
knowing fellow, and exceedingly tame. On Marcy's head, where 
he could see all that was going on, was his favorite perch. 

He liked to be concerned in everything that went on. If a 
trunk was to be packed, Dick was on the edge to look over the 
contents, and see that all was right. When Abby presented his 
mistress with a family of kittens, Dick was the busiest fellow in 
the house. Perching on a convenient place, he watched every 
movement of the sprawling little bundles of fur, with the great- 
est interest, now and then uttering a meditative little chirp to 
himself, as if wondering why they hadn't feathers and wings. 

The most irresistible thing to him, however, was a glass of 
water. If any one carried one across the room, they needed to 
keep their eyes open, or they would be suddenly surprised by 
Dick's plumping into it for a bath. In he would go, sometimes 
head first, and sometimes with head and tail out, and feet plash- 



^^ THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS." 243 

ing in it like a duck. Then he would come out, shake the drops 
off — all over everything, of course — and settle himself on the 
gas-pipe, or on top of a picture-frame, or some other convenient 
place, to perform his toilet, which he did with nicest care. 

Poor Dick had one trial in his happy life ; he was lonely. 
When he saw sparrows flying about outside, he would some- 
times stand on the window-sill, and look longingly out, and peep 
to them in the friendliest way. Perhaps they didn't understand 
his language — you know he is a foreigner — at any rate, the 
saucy little brown rogues took no notice of his advances. Some- 
times he would actually try to get out by flying against the glass. 

But there was a simple remedy for his loneliness, as Marcy 
soon found out. She put him in front of the looking-glass. 
The moment he saw himself in the glass he was happy. He 
would perk up, and plume himself, and peep and twitter most 
frantically. As the stranger in the glass, of course, seemed 
equally interested, Dick was satisfied. Soon he learned where 
to look for his new companion, and would come himself, take 
his stand on the cushion before the glass, and enjoy himself by 
the hour with this other self. 

It was not vanity. He evidently thought, with the famous 
"Alice," that through the looking-glass was another room, where 
his lively, though silent friend lived, as the sparrows lived the 
other side of the window-glass. 

The day that Uncle Karl brought home the Parrot, he saw a 
large emigrant party of Canary-Birds, just arrived from Ger- 
many, and ,«itill in their traveling quarters. How do you sup- 
pose that ^as? They came in bales/ actually, live Canaries. 
Think of bale of birds ! 

A cuiious sight it was. Each bird was in one of those 



244 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

cramped-up wooden cages that we see in the bird shops, and 
one thousand of these cages were made into a compact package 
or bale, three feet one way, four feet the other, and eight feet 
high. In this shape they could be handled like other cases of 
goods. 

Poor little creatures ! How they all got food and water, and 
what sort of a dismal time the middle ones had, one can hardly 
guess. They seemed in pretty good spirits — at least the out- 
side ones — when Uncle Karl visited them on the German ship. 
They chirped and peeped, and seemed glad to be at their jour- 
ney's end. 

He was so sorry for them that he wanted to buy the lot, and 
let them loose in a house, as were a family of Canaries that 
lived near Marcy's. 

This is the happiest houseful of birds you ever heard of, and 
they live in a house of their own, with a lace front. There are 
two hundred of them, of all shades of yellow and green ; every 
one is beautiful, and at least half are delightful singers. I want 
to tell you about them, and remember that every word is true. 

The house with the lace front consisted of two rooms, big 
enough for people, and so very large for cage-birds. The liv- 
ing, or front room, is furnished with a fine Christmas tree, in 
place of sofas and chairs, and the dining-room opening into it 
contains two more trees, a dining-table always spread, and bath- 
tubs conveniently set about the floor. Both rooms are carpeted 
with clean sand, and both are full of birds, flying here and there, 
from parlor to dining-room, from tree to window-sill, from bath- 
tub to seed-dish, exercising their wings, eating, bathing, chatting, 
singing, and scolding, very like some families of larger growth. 

Few in that home ever knew the misery of a cage. The old 



EXCITEMENT IN THE LARGE HOUSE. . 245 

maternal ancestor, the great-great-grandmother of the Canary 
babies, who are now sporting their first yellow and green coats, 
may have stories to tell, on a long winter afternoon, of her young 
days, when she lived in a wire prison ; but to the young ones it 
is merely an interesting tale. That such a thing can happen to 
them they never dream, nor will it, while lives their best friend, 
who is fifty times as big as they are, and their most loving 
attendant. 

She is the mistress of the big house, in whose third story is 
made this pleasant bird-home, and we'll call her '' Mrs. Nellie." 
The first thing one notices on entering her house, at the front 
door, is the concert in full swing upstairs. Fifty, yes perhaps 
a hundred Canaries, singing at the top of their voices. 

What a noise ! a bird shop is nothing to it, for the unhappy 
wretches who live in the willow prisons of a shop, cannot rival 
the joyful song of the free. 

They are much like people, these little creatures. They are 
very observing and extremely curious. Introduce anything 
new, and the whole family is at once agitated. Songs stop 
instantly ; the greedy ones, who are always taking a lunch, are 
called out by energetic peeps ; there's a great rustle of wings as 
the excited family gather around the wonder ; and the liveliest 
interest is shown till the strange object is fully understood. 

If it is a new dish to eat, like the end of a large watermelon, 
or a new pan for water, they will stand in a ring around it, 
stretch up on tiptoe, with necks craned out to look into the 
mystery, making a funny picture of curiosity. 

If the intruder is a bird, things are not so easily adjusted. A 
Ring-Dove, which had lost its mate, and was put in for consola- 
tion in his loneliness, caused a panic as he walked in the door. 




THE FIRST TWO IN THE LACE HOUSE. 



THE FAMILY ALARMED. 247 

Every song stopped short, as though the singers were shot, and 
nothing was heard but loud calls to everybody to come and see 
this queer thing. 

Hastily the scattered family gathered around the intruder, on 
the tree, however; not one ventured to the floor. The side 
toward the innocent widower became yellow with birds, every 
one with head toward the dangerous point, and every one eye- 
mg with suspicion the movements of the stranger. When he 
ventured to hop up to the window-sill, there was a sudden, wild 
flutter of wings, and a stampede (if you could call it so) into the 
other room, whence they came cautiously back, on seeing that 
the Dove had no intention of eating them. After a few min- 
utes they seemed to understand the harmless character of their 
visitor, for they returned to their musical performances, and 
hopped about the floor near him, even helping him to dispose of 
the cracker that was put in for him. 

Not so easily were they reconciled to an unfortunate Blue- 
bird, who fell into the hands of Mrs. Nellie, and was introduced 
into the lace house. His arrival caused a genuine fright, and a 
wild scattering. Innocent as the little fellow was, he was bigger 
than any of them, and he was blue ; a fierce, dreadful color, no 
doubt, in the yellow family. They could not accept him ; he was 
clearly an intruder. 

The mistress thereupon hit upon a new device. She put Mr. 
Bluebird into a cage, and exhibited him to the happy home 
in the light of a prisoner. This was another matter. The Blue- 
bird as a prisoner was not at all alarming, and on closer acquaint- 
ance, finding that he was not in the least bloodthirsty, they 
became so used to him that they let him be one of the family. 

He is now free among them, and may be considered one of 



/^M#:r~:-- 




HE WAS BIGGER, AND HE WAS BLUE. 



ROVER AND THE BIRDS. 249 

them ; but he's a sad example of solitude in a crowd. He flies 
with them, he sits beside them on the trees, no one disturbs 
him ; but he recognizes his solitary position. He never touches 
food till the second table, nor bathes till every Canary has 
ended: and though he has lived among them two years, and 
is a handsome fellow, he has never found a wife among the 
demure little yellow damsels. 

Another object of interest is the dog. This is an honest, 
though not very beautiful fellow, who was a sort of vagabond 
till he came of his own will to live with Mrs. Nellie, and has 
now become a self-respecting and eminently well-behaved ani- 
mal. 

It is the nature of Master Rover to kill mice, and when he 
first joined the family he did not see any difference between 
mice and birds ; but his education was attended to, and he soon 
learned that the little yellow fellows were to be looked at and 
admired, but not to be touched. 

Sometimes an inquisitive bird will hop up on the Dog, as he 
lies stretched out on the floor. It is a trial to his doggish 
nerves, but he endures it, breathless, as the bird goes up the 
length of his back, and on to his head. But the moment it 
hops off, with a sigh of relief Mr. Rover deliberately rolls over 
on to his back, and sticks his four paws into the air, to make 
sure that the intruder is gone, and that the liberty shall not be 
repeated. 

He likes to visit the lace house, but usually stops outside. 
The birds are quite well used to him, and do not mind him, 
unless sometimes, in his clumsy way, he happens to lean against 
the delicate front of their house. The lace yields, and it 
does look as though Master Rover would burst through. Then 




v*^^t^^ 



ROVER. 



■ ONE RAN AWAY. 25 1 

there is deep interest in the Canary family ; all gather around 
the scene of the possible catastrophe, and stand with stretched 
necks, to see what's going to happen. 

Things do happen, even in this happy home ; tragedies take 
place, accidents, deaths by violence, hanging, even murder. 

One little creature caught its foot behind a nail, and being 
suddenly frightened away, sad to say, left its poor little foot 
behind. Mrs. Nellie, of course, did everything possible for him, 
and he did not seem to suffer, but very soon was flying again, 
and hopping about on his stump of a leg, as cheerfully as any 
one of them. 

Another, still more unfortunate, hung herself to a tree by a 
string, and was found in the morning hanging head down, 
apparently quite dead. Cold water revived her, however. She 
ate a little sponge-cake, and, in short, quite recovered, although 
the leg withered and fell off. Now madam goes about on one 
leg, coolly sitting in the dish when she wishes to eat, and quite 
able to attend to her own wants. 

At another time there was great consternation in the family — 
Mrs. Nellie's family — when it was found that one of the babies, 
only six weeks old, in a fit of naughtiness had run away. It 
was sweeping day, and doubtless he slipped out the window, a 
cold, ugly day in April. 

He was followed, and seen in the neighborhood, but he was 
pleased with his liberty, and refused to come back, being finally 
left a mile from home, and night coming on. Poor baby ! little 
he knew of the cold outside world on a night in April. But he 
found out something before morning, namely, that running away 
is a foolish business, and what was more to the point, he found 
his way back ; he actually came to the windows of his native 



252 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

room, and tried to get in. But wire gauze that keeps birds in 
will also keep naughty outsiders out, and he could not get back 
till he flew into a neighbor's house, and was returned by one of 
the children, a wiser and a colder bird. 

The deepest tragedy that has taken place in this carefully 
guarded home was a dreadful murder. The miserable assassin 
came into the house at the silent hour of midnight, as was proper 
on such an errand. He went quietly upstairs, tore a hole in the 
lace front, and so got into the house, where every one was 
puffed up into a soft feather ball, and fast asleep. 

In a few minutes Mrs. Nellie, on the floor below, was awak- 
ened by commotion in the house, shrieks of fright, flutter of 
wings, and cries of distress. Aid was quickly called in, the 
domestic police appeared upon the scene, and made short work 
of Mr. Rat ; but alas ! not soon enough to prevent a ghastly 
tragedy, the death of more than one of the pretty little fel- 
lows. 

Their bodies were tenderly laid away in the cemetery in the 
yard, with tears, no doubt, and all traces of the crime removed. 
Since then no enemy has molested them. 

They have an enemy, though, or at least he is not a friend. 
He lives quite near — next door in fact — in an elegant but 
strong house of wire. It is four stories high, and quite grand, 
but the owner spends nearly all his time in the attic, because 
from that point he can look into the lace house. And to look 
in, and perhaps to dream of the delight of tyrannizing over 
the whole yellow family, is his delight. 

He is a splendid, great fellow, in a rich, slate-colored coat, 
with black trimming, a magnificent singer, and a Mocking-Bird. 
His eyes are sharp and bright, and not a movement among 



TROUBLES IN THE LACE HOUSE. 253 

his lively neighbors escapes them. He turns his wise head first 
one side and then the other, watching in deeply interested 
silence everything that goes on. He might be a detective in 
disguise, by the way he watches. 

The birds don't mind him when he is still ; but let him speak 
one word, a sort of a croak, that sounds like " Get out," and 
there's a flutter and a scamper into the next room. The Mock- 
ing-Bird hops to another perch, flutters his wings, and looks 
pleased at the sensation he has caused. 

Sometimes he plays a joke on them. He can speak Canary 
language as well as they can, and once when two birds sat alone 
in the parlor, he called out, " Tweet," with the perfect accent 
of a Canary. Each of the two thought the other had spoken, 
•and each at once answered, and then looked with amazement at 
each other, as much as to say, 

" Who did speak then, if not you ?" 

The Mocking-Bird saw their consternation, and laughed under 
his brown coat, no doubt. 

When the day's duties are over, and the Canary family are 
safely in bed, every busy little head on its soft feather pillow, 
then Mr. Mocking-Bird makes the house ring with his music, 
barking till Rover is nearly crazy, whistling like a boy, shrieking 
like a car conductor, squawking like a hen, and now and then 
singing some delightful melody in an undertone, as though that 
was too choice to give the world at large. 

This bird does not take a cheerful view of life. He is nine 
years old, and has seen the world since he lived in a wire house. 
He has been obliged to part with his dearest friends, and trouble 
has made him bitter, so that he is a cynic, or, in other words, 
a sour old grumbler, pleased with nothing. He is doubtless 



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THE MISERABLE ASSASSIN. 



BUILDING THE HOUSE. 255 

the bugaboo of the Canary family. Who knows but Mamma 
Canary points him out to the babies, and holds up the old 
gentleman in brown as the ogre that carries off naughty little 
yellow birds who crowd in the nest or snatch their food. 

And there are plenty of babies in that house, I can tell you. 
When nesting time comes, in the spring, every little fussy yellow- 
and-green mother begins to look about for strings and feathers, 
and other suitable house-building materials, and every fluttering 
young father bustles around and sings his sweetest, till Mrs. 
Nellie provides for their wants. Bits of string, feathers, fine 
horse hair, and plenty of things are on hand, while the most 
convenient of wire baskets suddenly appear all over the walls. 

Never was so busy a household as this, never so earnest look- 
ing over of treasure, so careful selection of houses, so dainty 
building, with deep consultation over every point. But at last 
everything is arranged, every baby-house is built, the lovely 
white Qigg cradles are placed in them, and mamma settles down 
to her work of sitting, while papa does his share by the most 
delightful singing, the gayest movements, and the most devoted 
attention to keeping her fed. 

When the little ones first show their heads — their mouths 
rather, for they are nearly all mouth — they are not pretty to 
look at, and nobody but their proud parents cares to see them. 

Indeed, even their loving good angel, Mrs. Nellie, says they 
are not interesting. But they grow fast, and in a few weeks are 
hopping about as lively as possible, and full of fun and mis- 
chief. 

Before the family grew so large, the nests were built in the 
trees, and were very pretty to see. They perfectly answered 
the purpose for the first babies ; but those naughty youngsters, 




THE BUGABOO OF THE FAMILY. 



ANOTHER BIT GF FUN. 2 5/ 

when they had been turned out and left to take care of them- 
selves, while the mother took care of their younger brothers and 
sisters, were full of mischief, and one of their favorite pranks 
was to seat themselves on a branch under a nest, and coolly 
pull out the bottom, to see the eggs fall to the floor. That was 
a grief to the little mothers, and had to be stopped, of course, 
and Mrs. Nellie provided wire houses after that. 

Another bit of fun to the little yellow rogues, is to play 
practical jokes on their elders. A sedate elder sister sitting 
quietly on a branch, was suddenly disturbed by a jerk of one 
of her beautiful long tail feathers. On the branch below sat 
two giddy young things, a few weeks out of the nest ; but she 
was on her dignity, and paid no attention to them. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Nellie was watching, and she saw the young 
joker give a sly twitch to the feather, and then look away as 
innocently as though he never thought of such a thing. No 
response being given, he did it again, and again looked away. 

Still no notice, and he grew bolder. He turned and gave a 
tremendous jerk, expressing as plainly as though he had said it, 
*' There ! I think that'll rouse you ! " 

It did. This was too much for any self-respecting Canary. 
The insulted bird leaned over and gave a great fierce peck, like a 
slap to a naughty boy, to the wrong youngster ! The amazed 
look and the indignant cry of the wrongly punished Canary 
were droll to see, and the guilty one plainly chuckled as he 
made a sudden visit to the dining-room. 

The family in the lace house has its share of people who like 
to try experiments. They have tried all sorts of things, such 
as having twenty bathe at once, in a tub only big enough for 
ten, and this they have not yet satisfied themselves about. They 



258 QUEER PETS AT MARCY' S. 

have even tried to establish the tenement-house plan of living, 
several couples building and placing their cradles in the same 
house, with sad results of broken eggs and smothered babies. 

Perhaps the most interesting personage in this family is the 
great-grandmother of all, who lives there still, though old age 
has crept upon her, and she is blind. She is as pretty as ever, 
and seems to enjoy life as much as anybody. Of course she is 
the object of special love and tenderness to Mrs. Nellie, and is 
very tame. She will readily perch on an offered finger, and 
never attempt to leave it, though caressed and talked to. 

In fact she knows her voice, and will at once turn toward it, 
smooth down her feathers — which when alone are always ruffed 
up, as if to protect herself against possible unseen danger — and 
listening with close attention. 

She has many privileges of age ; not a rocking-chair in the 
warmest corner to be sure, but what she prizes more, a private 
breakfast dish, outside the lace house, where her hungry grand- 
children cannot crowd. Not that they are rude to her. Far 
from it. Most of them respectfully get out of her way, and do 
not resent her hitting them, in her blind getting about, though 
now and then one will speak a little cross word to her, when she 
takes a bite from his bit of lettuce, or other dainty. 

She is a wise little creature, and knows the feeling of every 
dish on the table. If she is put on the edge of the drinking 
cup, when she wants to eat, she will not even put her head down 
to see where she is, but at once hops down ; while if put on the 
seed dish, she will immediately begin to eat. 

Since she grew blind she has never built a nest ; but before 
that, she and her mate, a faithfully attached couple all their 
lives, have raised at least twelve broods. It is pitiful to see her 



THREE CHRISTMAS TREES. 259 

shuffle around on the floor, trying to find a perch, feathers 
ruffled up, and evidently listening intently. By and by she 
gets under the tree, and a bird alights directly over her head, a 
few inches above. In an instant, as though she heard him, she 
hops to the perch beside him without mistake. 

Mrs. Nellie has never made any attempts to tame or to handle 
her pets, and though they know her well, and are pleased when 
she comes in, often alighting on her head and shoulders, they 
are a little shy until they are in trouble. The moment one 
is in distress it seems to recognize its best friend, and comes to 
her, and allows her to do anything with it. 

When she starts upstairs in the morning, to give them their 
breakfast, she calls at the foot of the stairs, 

" I'm coming." 

At once there is a response of delight, and when she appears 
every feather head is clinging to the lace side of the house, to 
welcome her with twitters and flutters of joy. 

House-cleaning day comes about once a fortnight, when paint 
is scrubbed and a new sand carpet laid down. But the great 
event of the year comes about Christmas time — as it does to 
you little people outside — when three grand new trees are set 
up in their house. They have no candles and no presents, but 
they have leaves, and to pull off every leaf and cover the floor 
with green, is the first work of the birds. Not till the trees are 
reduced to bare sticks, do they consider them suitable for Canary 
perches, and fit for their home. 

So large a family has frequent need of a burial-place, and in 
the yard one is prepared, where the little bodies are laid when 
the fluttering life is out of them. Not long ago a little niece of 
Mrs. NelHe's happened to be there when a bird died. She made 




ONE WHO NEVER LIVED IN A HOySE. 



THE NEST BEHIND THE COLOGNE BOTTLE. 261 

a beautiful grave, and decorated it with dainty bouquets of a 
suitable size, and kept them supplied and watered for a long 
time. 

This happy family — like others — was not made, it grew. 
It began with two birds, allowed to fly about in Mrs. Nellie's 
room. One day a new bird was brought into the house and 
introduced to the family of two. One of them at once opened 
her mouth in a very naughty way, as though you should make 
a face at a stranger, and rudely turned her back on him ; but 
the other was more polite ; she made friends at once, and before 
long they both deserted their unamiable companion, and set up 
housekeeping for themselves. 

When they were ready to build they began to collect bits of 
thread from the carpet ; but the favorite material was Mrs. Nel- 
lie's hair. That saucy bird would actually perch on her head 
and pull hairs from her frizzes, till at last she was supplied with 
other materials. In spite of that, however, the first nest, made 
behind a cologne bottle, on a bracket beside the mirror, was 
largely composed of her mistress's hair. 

From that small beginning has, in four or five years, grown 
the present immense family, not more than five couples having 
been added. Let me tell you what a care they are. They eat 
and waste a bushel of bird-seed every month, and their bill of 
fare includes a half dozen eggs every day, bread and milk, 
sponge-cake, fresh lettuce, and many other things to make a 
nice variety. When the cradles are full of babies, they have 
soaked cracker and other soft food. 

Besides the every-day care, they weigh on the mind like a 
family of babies ; one that is ill draws upon everybody for sym 
pathy. There is one now, who has suffered for weeks with 



262 



• QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 



what seems like a bad cough. All day it sits ruffed up on the 
perch, with sick-looking bill, and pants of distress, and all night 
it coughs so that Mrs. Nellie can hear it in her room down- 
stairs. Every night she thinks she will give it a dose of chlo- 
roform and end its sufferings, and every morning she thinks, 
perhaps it may get well. 

There's a good deal of what we call human nature about 
these little creatures, and, after all, life in the lace house isn't so 
very unlike life in the houses of brick and stone around it. 




ONLY FOUR. 



263 




TOO LATE. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH. 



MOPSA, THE FIFTH CAT. 



There were always plenty of cats and kittens at Marcy's, and 
really mamma had to be very severe in the matter, or cats would 
soon have crowded out the people, for every one of the family 
was fond of them, and neither of the children could refuse the 
offer of a kitten from any neighbor who wished to find homes 
for their spare ones. 

Therefore a limit had to be fixed to the number of cats that 
would be taken into the family. The allowance was liberal 
enough, one would think ; four she would admit, but no more. 



264 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

At the time I am going to tell of, there were already four in 
the house — in fact the ranks were always full, and only a death 
made room for a new one. There were Abby and Mother Bunch 
— now grown up — the parlor cats, and Nig and Miss Miggs, the 
kitchen cats. Of course, then, according to the rules of the 
house, no kitten, however irresistible, should be brought in. 

But one day Marcy came from a visit to a friend, with a look 
of anxiety on her face and a bunch under her cloak. The 
moment her mother saw her she knew something was wrong, 
and remembering Marcy's weakness, she jumped at once at the 
truth, and said she ^^ hoped Marcy had not brought home a 
kitten." 

For reply, Marcy opened her cloak and showed the head of a 
bright little Maltese kitten, with lovely silvery white edges to 
her fur. She was exceedingly pretty, and she was Maltese, 
which they had wished a long time to have ; and at last mamma 
consented to go over her rule for this once, especially as Mother 
Bunch, since her blindness, was ailing, and they thought she 
would not live long. So that's the way Mopsa came to live at 
the house and be the fifth Cat. 

It was not long before she was the pet of the whole family, 
for she was a most affectionate Puss, and wanted to be in some 
one's lap every moment of the time. 

She had the queerest fancy to lick an arm, especially the 
arm of one who wore no stiff cuff. She would begin at the 
wrist — scarcely ever touching the hand, which cats usually lick 
— and set up at the same moment a most happy and contented 
purr. Gradually she would work up on the arm, nosing under 
the sleeve, and at last settling down to a good nap, with her 
nose as far up the sleeve as she could get it. 



SLEEPING ON THE SATIN SHELF. 265 

This was often a great annoyance, and she would be put down 
on the floor, or the arm held up high, while she was remon- 
strated with. But she was so pleading, she begged so hard, 
jumping up again instantly and standing on hind legs to reach 
the arm with her fore paws, and pull it down, looking all the 
time so innocent and so eager, that the victim had not the heart 
to refuse, and generally ended with giving up one arm, and of 
course the hand, to her caresses. 

Mopsa slept in a big arm-chair in the parlor, on a soft shawl ; 
but her naps — when not in somebody's lap — were taken on the 
mantel-shelf. This particular shelf was across the chimney 
which came up from the kitchen, and the wall there was always 
warm. In wandering about over the tables and shelves, which 
she was fond of doing, Mopsa had discovered this delightful 
warm spot, and taken possession of it, coolly pushing off any 
articles that might be in the way. 

Now the mantel was covered with light-blue satin, with deep 
fringe hanging, and the family tried to break her of this trouble- 
some fancy. But they could not keep her off, for the piano stood 
where she could jump from it, and every night that the furnace 
fire got low, and the room rather cool, she would be sure to find 
her way to the satin shelf. At last — as usual — they submitted, 
since she was so neat a Pussy that she never soiled it in the least. 
They cleared that corner for her use, and left an arm-chair near, 
as a highway for her to get up more easily. 

On the same shelf was a shell full of dried grasses, including 
wheat and oats, and Miss Mopsa soon found out that they were 
nice for a slight lunch. So whenever she wished, she would 
daintily seize one stem by the end, pull it out, and proceed to 
eat the grains, whether wheat, oats, or common grass. 



266 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

She had several names, though Mopsa was the formal one. 
Marcy called her Kittena, and Sozzly, and Nipperkin. Mamma 
called her Kitchie, and Ralph, Foots, and sometimes her name 
was Toodlum or Petkins. She knew all her names, and would 
look around and turn one ear slightly that way, when one spoke 
to her, as though to see if the offered remark was of interest 
enough to notice; but she would never stir a peg to come, 
unless it was dinner-time, or it pleased her high mightiness to 
do so. 

She knew the dinner-bell as well as any one, and the moment 
she heard it, though stretched out before the fire, or with head 
thrust far up a sleeve, fast asleep, she would jump as though 
shot, and start on a gallop for the dining-room door. 

She had her meals in a closet, the butler's pantry, opening out 
of the dining-room ; but as soon as she had finished eating she 
came out and scrambled up on some one's shoulder — which she 
could easily do, even when they were standing up — where she 
could look over the table and see what others had to eat. 

Then she showed the deepest interest in every mouthful that 
found its way to the mouth she was near. She would stick her 
head forward to see what it was, and if too attractive she would 
put out a dainty paw to draw it her way, or gently pat the cheek 
as a reminder that she was there. I regret to say that proper 
table manners were not taught this petted kitten. She was 
often fed with a tea-spoon when in this elevated position, and 
she would empty it with ease and neatness, by means of her 
graceful pink tongue. 

When Mopsa first came, and Marcy would bring her to the 
dining-room at meal-times to be fed, her father '' set down his 
foot " that cats must not be fed at the table. But that wise 



^ MOPS A' S WILES. 267 

Puss seemed to understand that he had to be won over, so she 
would scramble to his shoulder and purr, and rub against his 
cheek, and be so coaxing, that at last, when she would gently 
mention that she too was hungry, even his sternness would relax, 
and he would say quite seriously, '' Marcy, why don't you feed 
this cat ? she seems half starved ! " and Marcy, looking very 
meek, but laughing inside at Mopsa's wiles, would rise and feed 
her. 

As I said, this Kitten was social in her tastes, and it was a 
trial to her to spend her nights in the parlor alone. So the 
moment Patty opened the door in the morning, she was down 
from her bed, and started on a search for the family. She knew 
all the bedrooms, and would go from one to another, mewing 
at the door to be let in, and jumping on the bed and purr- 
ing, and licking the arms with the greatest eagerness ; and she 
generally made the complete rounds of the rooms before 
breakfast. 

She was fond of water, and had two ways to get it. When 
in the room with a hydrant, she would jump up beside it and 
wait for it to be turned on. It was always started very gently, 
so that a small stream fell, and she would drink it as it touched 
the bowl beneath. When she had enough she would sometimes 
play with the bright little stream, shaking her paw as though 
wondering how it got wet, yet unable to resist the lively run- 
ning drops. 

If she was in the parlor and wanted water, she went at once 
to the greenhouse door, which was always left ajar for her, and 
chmbed a tree — that is, a tree fern, a foot or two high — to the 
edge of the fountain basin. There was always water, and she 
could drink her fill. She was fond of the greenhouse ; it was 



268 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

her outdoors. She would climb all around and among the pots, 
tasting and smelling the plants, and always digging up the new 
slips, which she seemed to think were pretending to be plants 
when they were not. 

She had great curiosity. Carried about on the shoulder — her 
favorite post of observation — she would look at pictures on the 
wall, first at the lower ones, then stretch her head to see the 
upper ones, looking as wise as an owl, and no doubt having her 
own opinion as to their merits. Then the gas fixture would be 
closely examined, and if near enough, she would put out a paw 
to touch it. 

But she was most amusing when let alone, and not apparently 
noticed. She would start out on a tour of discovery of her own. 
She would jump on to a bureau, look at all the toilet articles 
with interest, play a little with the pins in the cushion, and 
glance at herself in the glass, though she never paid much atten- 
tion to that, evidently knowing well enough it was not another 
Kitten. If a drawer was a little open, she would put in her 
hand and claw out a ruche, or a ribbon, and examine it carefully. 

Then she would leap on to a table to continue her tour. If 
anything moved from the force of her jump, as did once a 
mechanical toy velocipede of Ralph's, she would gently touch 
it with one paw to see if it was movable, and smell of the rider 
to see if it was alive. Then she would stand up on her hind 
legs to look on to the book-shelves above, and stretch back to 
see on to the upper shelf. 

But the place she liked best was the desk, especially when 
mamma was writing, and had two or three drawers open. The 
wonders on that desk never tired Mopsa. Every small thing she 
would push to see if it would roll, and if it did, and fell to the 



m^o-j-t-t u-v ■ ' 1 >■ V .J- . 



MOPSA'S FUNNY WAYS. 269 

floor, she was happy, and would try the next ; a spool, a pencil, 
a bunch of keys, or a thimble were her delight. 

Then she would insert a paw into the drawers and try to pull 
out things ; and if far enough open she would crawl in. In 
fact, to thoroughly investigate the mysteries of these odd little 
hiding-places seemed to be one object of her life. When the 
worker at the desk could not endure it any longer, and shut the 
drawers, Mopsa would coolly walk over and sit down on the lap 
tablet on which she wrote, and dispute possession of the pen, 
whose movements she evidently considered a challenge to a 
frolic. Driven off from this post, she would establish herself on 
the big dictionary, where the sun usually fell, and go to washing 
her face and hands. 

Like other kittens, Mopsa was extremely playful, and she was 
kept supplied with marbles on the parlor floor, so that she could 
always find one to play with. She would roll it about a few 
minutes, dashing after it, and turning somersets in her eagerness 
to catch it, and then poke it under the iron hearth beneath the 
grate, or the edge of the rug, and sit down to wait for it to 
come out, as though it was alive. 

Best of all she liked a newspaper, which she would go over 
and under, and pounce on and tear to pieces. That was so bad 
a habit, that after she had destroyed a few valuable papers and 
pieces of music, the family were careful not to let her have 
papers, and to take them away and reprove her — with a gentle 
box on the ear — when she began to tear one. So she took to a 
portfolio of engravings that stood on the floor. Into the ends 
of this she could reach, and claw and bite the margins of the 
pictures. 

She delighted in odd nooks and corners. If she found the 



2;o QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

library case open, and a large book gone, she would go through 
the door thus made, behind the books, and stay there a long 
time ; and into the piano, on the strings, was a favorite retreat 
always. 

Mopsa was rather jealous of any attention paid to books and 
papers. She would jump into the lap, thrust her head between 
the offensive object and one's face, nose about the wrist, and at 
last take possession of the shoulder, licking the cheek and lying 
down full length over the shoulder, if possible with her head 
under one's chin, so as to be in the way of comfortable reading. 
There she would lie an hour at a time, while the victim of her 
winning ways quietly rocked and read. 

Her strongest desire was for fresh meat. She would sit in the 
window and watch the birds, and twitch her jaw in her longing 
to get at them, making a peculiar low cry at the time. She 
made the same sound when she saw a fly buzzing about, too 
high for her to reach, and then some of the family always came 
to her aid, holding her up to the wall, or the window, while she 
put her paws on him and ate him up. 

If he was on the lower pane she asked no help ; she could get 
him herself. She would jump and seize him in both paws, and 
once or twice was seen to snatch a fly from the air in one paw, 
springing up from the floor perhaps two feet to do so, and 
carrying it to her mouth in that paw, as handily as you can use 
your hand. 

There was one place in the house forbidden to Mopsa, and 

" she soon found it out, and at once decided that to be the most 

interesting place under the roof. It was the kitchen. Marcy 

feared she would find something improper to eat, as she had 

already shown a fancy for broom splints and bits of string, and 



VISITS TO THE KITCHEN CATS. 27 1 

had made herself violently ill by them. And worse than that, 
she would have vulgar associates — the kitchen cats, who spent 
their evenings out on the roofs and fences, and would teach her 
who knows what vagabond tastes. 

No sooner did this naughty Puss find out that she must not 
go into the kitchen, than she put in practice every cat wile to 
do so. She would seat herself by a door which led that way, 
and if it was opened would dash through like a streak, under 
the feet of the one coming in, and often narrowly escaping a 
terrible squeeze. 

Down-stairs she would go like a flash, and hide in some corner 
till pursuit was over, when she would forage about for bits of 
food, and lie down on the hearth with Miss Miggs — her favorite 
below stairs — for a stolen nap. When her visit was over, she 
would go up the back stairs to mamma's door, and cry to be 
let in, and then she would lie down in the sunshine, perfectly 
satisfied with her exploits. 

From the first she had a great fancy for mamma, perhaps 
because her arm was of a better flavor, but probably because 
only in her lap did she find absolute peace, and no teasing. She 
was so persistent in her attentions, insisting on being held by 
her, every moment they were in the same room, that poor 
mamma, who had spent time enough over kittens in her girl- 
hood, and never expected to pet them again, was fairly won 
over, and yielded as amiably as she could to being herself petted 
by a Kitten. 

She had always laughed at the rest of the family for making 
so much ado over Mopsa, but when, one morning, the poor Puss 
was found crouched behind the water-pipes in the greenhouse, 
howling dismally, and so weak she could not stand, mamma her- 



2^2 QUEER PETS AT MARCV'S. 

self gave in to the family weakness. Marcy had to go to school 
and could not pet her, and petting was what she pined for ; so 
she wrapped the sufferer in a shawl and took her on her lap, 
holding her all the morning. 

Another time she was hurt. While prying around the sliding 
cupboard, Patty, not seeing her, sent it down. Poor Mopsa's 
head was caught, and for a moment they thought she was killed. 

She was not, but she was hurt, and never was Kitten more 
tenderly nursed than she, held in arms and petted to her 
heart's content. All that day she never purred, nor tasted food 
or drink, nor scarcely moved. She lay still — poor dumb crea- 
ture — and suffered it out. The next day she was better, and 
spent the time in a long rest on the mantel-shelf; and the third 
day she returned to her food and was well. 

Perhaps I ought not to call Mopsa the fifth Cat, since she is 
yet only a Kitten hardly eight months old, and of course not 
half grown. 

Before this time Mother Bunch was dead, and Abby had 
taken to queer ways. She deserted her bed in the basket, and 
insisted on sleeping upstairs in some of the rooms opening on a 
certain side of the house. For she had made the discovery that 
a long wisteria vine, which grew to the roof on that side, was a 
charming ladder, by which she could go up or down, at any time 
of day or night. 

When it came bedtime, Abby was generally not to be found. 
Mamma — suspecting her — would look everywhere about her 
room, and decide that she couldn't be there. Sometimes she 
was not ; she was already out for an evening walk, in the pleas- 
ant hours when boys are gone to bed, and dogs have to stay at 
home and watch the house. 



THE WISTERIA LADDER. 



273 



But when she was ready for bed, hours after the family were 
asleep, she would climb the wisteria ladder to her mistress's 
window, which was always open from the top. On the top of 
this sash Abby would coolly jump, when her weight w^ould send 
it down with a bang, and she would scramble in through the 
curtains, of course waking everybody and making a great noise. 

If her mistress scolded her, she would set up her loud, happy 
purr, and what tender-hearted Cat-lover but would forgive her 
on the spot. If she happened to be shut in, she took the same 
way to get out, going through the window and down the wis- 
teria ladder. 




A WILD PUSSY. 



274 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH. 

AN UGLY BABY. 

When the children heard, during their visit to the Aquarium, 
that there was a baby Hippopotamus to be seen, they naturally 
thought of something little and pretty, that might be taken up 
in the arms and petted ; but when they saw it, there was first a 
cry of dismay, and then a shout of laughter. 

Baby indeed ! it was bigger than any dog, and the very ugliest- 
looking creature in the building. Short, waddling legs, big, 
clumsy feet, an enormous head nearly all mouth, and the most 
absurd little ears, about big enough for a cat. 

It was a great treasure though. A baby Hippopotamus is not 
seen every da}^, and people stood around in crowds watching 
its awkward movements and throwing bits of bread and cake, 
which it would catch in its mouth, when it felt like it. It was 
not particularly good-natured, and was specially cross to chil- 
dren, whom it sometimes tried to bite. 

This baby came from Africa — the banks of the White Nile — 
and traveled across the country in royal state. Four camels 
brought it, in a tank which they carried between them ; an army 
of twenty-five goats furnished it with milk, and of course all 
these animals required a small mob of men to look after 
them. 

When they found the little creature it was very young, and 



A NINETY-POUND BABY. 



275 



weighed ninety pounds ; but when the children saw it, it was a 
year-old baby, and weighed some hundreds. 

Ugly and awkward as the Hippopotamus is on land, in the 
water, where it spends most of its time when at home, it is any- 




THE BABY HIPPOPOTAMUS. 



thing but clumsy. It dives and swims with the greatest ease, 
and the little ones are lively and frolicsome, chasing each other 
about like other little animals. The grown-up ones are harmless 
and good-natured, unless disturbed or attacked by men. Then 



2/6 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

they become furious, and think nothing of dashing a boat to 
pieces and kilHng a man or two. 

The flesh of this creature is very good to eat, and he carries 
in his enormous mouth fine ivory teeth, some of which weigh 
six or eight pounds, and are very valuable. His skin, which is 
an inch and a half thick in some places, is useful also to make 
whips and other things. Moreover, he is a terrible destroyer of 
crops, partly because he can eat five or six bushels ; but more 
because in getting what he wants to eat, he tramples down and 
ruins a much greater quantity. So of course he is hunted in 
several ways, caught in pitfalls and traps, shot by the whites, 
and harpooned by the natives. 

The Hippopotamus is a very affectionate mother, and carries 
her baby about on her back, as you see in the picture, where the 
father stands on the bank, and is evidently telling them to 
*' hurry up." Very cross he looks about it, too ; but perhaps — 
like some people — '' his bark is worse than his bite." 

The hunter who wants to carry off one of these mother's 
darlings has first of all to fight with that mother, and kill her, 
too ; for she will never desert her little one. 

A grown-up Hippopotamus is about five feet high, and nine 
feet long, and it sleeps nearly all day, partly under the water 
of a river or lake. At night it comes out on the bank to hunt 
for shrubs and plants, on which it feeds ; for those teeth, savage 
as they look, are intended only to pull up the river grasses to 
eat. The name Hippopotamus means River-Horse, and some 
people call it the Sea-Cow. Its cry is generally a kind of grunt, 
and sometimes a loud, hoarse sort of snort or groan. 

Mr. Buckland tells an interesting story of a baby Hippopot- 
amus which was kept in the Zoological Garden of London. To 



A NURSE FOUND FOR THE BABY. 2JJ 

begin with his story, a party of travelers were one day rowing 
up a small lake in Egypt, which was thickly grown with reeds. 
Upon one of these beds of reeds they saw a small, black 
baby — a Hippopotamus baby — fast asleep and alone. This was 
a very rare sight, for usually the youngster rides everywhere its 
mother goes — on her back — as I told you before. 

The men instantly thought of the London Zoological Garden, 
and its constant desire for curiosities, and they resolved to steal 
the unguarded sleeper while its careless mother was away. 

No sooner said than done. He was somewhat larger than a 
terrier dog, and very young indeed ; they supposed about two 
days. One of the men jumped into the water and carried him 
off in his arms. He cried and squealed like a young pig; but, 
happily for the men, the mother did not hear him, and they got 
safely off with their strange prize. 

The first thing, of course, was to get a nurse for him, and they 
soon found an Arab named Salama who was willing to under- 
take the business. He took care of the baby as carefully as the 
mother herself could have done, and soon became very much 
attached to his charge, giving him the name of Bucheet, as a 
pet name. 

For traveling arrangements on his journey to England, Bu- 
cheet had a box made without a top ; instead of a lake or river 
to bathe in, which he would have enjoyed at home, he had only 
a pail of water thrown over him now and then. 

He became intensely attached to his nurse, who succeeded in 
keeping him in good health, though his skin grew hard and 
rough for want of water. When he reached his new home in 
London, after riding through the streets of the city on a dray, 
he was as large as a full-grown hog. 



278 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

He was a little frightened at the noise and confusion of Lon- 
don, though he followed his beloved nurse to his own quarters 
without trouble. In this room there had been prepared for him 
a nice bath. Bucheet had never enjoyed that luxury, so he 
smelled of it, but didn't quite know what to do with it. 

The Arab nurse had to show him what water was good for, 
by walking himself into the tank. The baby followed, and in 
a few minutes, as soon as he found out how pleasant it was, he 
was splashing and frolicing, and having a grand time. After 
that he never needed an invitation to bathe ; he was always 
ready. 

After his first bath and the supper that followed it, during 
which he kept his eyes on his Arab friend, and cried if he went 
out of sight, Bucheet was ready for bed. This was always 
closely hugged up to Salama, and so affectionate was he, that if 
the keeper coughed or moved in the night, he would wake up 
and answer him in a social way. 

The next morning he had another bath, and soon his skin 
began to grow soft and black, as it should be. Though so fond 
of his keeper, letting him do anything with him, he was not the 
most amiable baby in the world, and he had no fancy for stran- 
gers, but would snap at them if they came too near. 

He had some curious ways for a wild beast. Among others 
he insisted on sleeping on a pillow, and he would cry, and carry 
on like a naughty child, if it was not given to him. 

After this young Hippopotamus grew up, he started again on 
his travels. He came to America, and it is supposed that he 
traveled about the country for some time ; but what became of 
him at last I never learned. 



BOTH WANT TO SWING. 279 



CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH. 

TWO FUNNY FELLOWS. 

In one corner of the large room at the Aquarium where all 
these creatures lived, was a strong cage of wood, and iron, and 
plate glass, before which was a long seat. On this seat Marcy 
and Ralph spent much time, resting after their running about, 
and watching with greatest interest the two little fellows who 
lived in the cage. 

They were Chimpanzees, and as full of fun as any of the 
monkey family, to which they belong. 

On this particular day their strongest desire seemed to be to 
swing. At one place in the roof of their cage was a bar, which 
they could seize in one hand and swing their bodies violently 
back and forth. Unfortunately, only one could swing at a time, 
and this of course made trouble. 

They would perhaps both be sitting in front of the cage, next 
the glass, looking at their visitors in the grave sharp way of 
Chimpanzees, when all at once one would put out his lips and 
mutter something ; a challenge, or a defiance perhaps. May be 
he said, 

*' I'll have a swing before you do ! " 

Whatever it was, he would spring to the bar like a flash, and 
begin to swing as hard as he could. Seeing this always roused 
his companion to fury. He would set up the most violent chat- 




THE CHIMPANZEE IN THE CAGE. 



HE BUMPED HIS HEAD. 28 1 

tering, probably ''calling names," or expressing his opinion 
pretty freely, and then he would jump fiercely across the cage, 
fling himself on to the other as though in a transport of rage, 
trying to pull him down or drive him away. They would grasp 
each other and fall in a heap on the floor, and after a few 
tumbles over and over, would come to the front again, to see 
if anybody had yet found a peanut or a cake for them. It 
was evidently more frolic than quarrel, for they did not bite, 
and came peaceably forward together after it. 

The children had watched them with interest for some time, 
when in one of their tumbles one Chimpanzee bumped his 
head. For a moment he looked like a child, as he sat up and 
rubbed it ruefully, but the next instant he took a droll way to 
help it. He deliberately laid his forehead to the floor, and 
standing on all four feet — or hands rather — he plowed the 
length of his cage with his head, stirring up the straw and dust, 
and making a dreadful muss of himself. It seemed to relieve 
him ; at any rate he paid no more attention to his head, except 
to brush off the loose straw. 

The names of these two funny playmates were Jerry and Tom, 
and they wrestled, and tumbled, and turned somersets, and pulled 
each other's ears, and acted like a pair of frolicsome youngsters. 

If a visitor offered one of them a nut or cake, or anything 
small, holding it up to the glass front in his sight, the Chim- 
panzee would put his hand out through a hole in the roof to 
take it. But if it was an orange or an apple, he would thrust 
his hand through a hole in the floor, which was larger than the 
other. 

The children were so interested that Uncle Karl went out 
and found the keeper, who opened the door and took Master 



282 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

Tom in his arms. No sooner did he find himself out of the 
cage than he resolved to have a run about the place. He tried to 
jerk away, he twisted his arm till it seemed as if it must break ; 
he dragged himself one side and then the other, and behaved 
exactly as you've seen a naughty child who wanted to be free. 

But the keeper was used to his tricks. He held him tightly, 
made him shake hands with Ralph, and tickled him to show 
that he could laugh as well as anybody. It has often been said 
that '-' Man is the only laughing animal, " but this Chimpanzee 
laughed aloud, though not very loud, and when the man stopped 
tickling he had actually a smile on his face. It seems perhaps 
hard to believe, but I assure you it is perfectly true. 

But how do you think Jerry liked seeing his companion at 
liberty? Til tell you what he did. First he tried the door, and 
finding it locked he seized the swing bar, and began to swing 
furiously. At every swing he brought his two feet — or lower 
hands — bang against the door with an awful clatter, scolding 
away savagely all the time. 

Finding that did not open the door, he turned the other way 
and gave the same sort of kicks against the glass in front. It 
seemed as though he would come through ; but the glass was 
thick and it did not break. 

They were very cunning, the keeper said, and could use tools 
as well as a man. Once when he left a screw-driver in their 
reach, one of them got it, looked about for a convenient screw, 
and coolly put the tool to its proper use. When it slipped out 
of the groove in the head of the screw, the Chimpanzee would 
put it in his mouth and wet it, to make it stick. He held it 
exactly right, and the only reason he did not succeed was, that 
he turned the screw-driver the wrong way. 



A STRANGE APE. 283 

The Chimpanzee is called also the Large Black Ape, and he 
belongs to the most knowing branch of the monkey family. He 
is almost entirely black, has no tail, and is found in Africa, 
where he is said to live more upon the ground than monkeys in 
general. In his native country he eats fruits and vegetables; 
but when living among men — which he likes to do, for he is 
easily tamed — he eats and drinks whatever they do, tea or coffee 
or anything, even having his notions, preferring roast meat to 
boiled, and one sort of wine to another, in countries where wine 
is commonly used. 

He can be taught not only man's ways of living, but to work 
for him. An Austrian gentleman who lived in Siam tells a 
strange story of the Ape's skill in knowing good money from 
bad. Whether true or not, a writer for a London paper affirms 
that the animal is kept in banks, to test coin, which he does by 
putting it in his mouth, selecting the bad instantly. This is no 
more wonderful than many things that we know to be true. 

The same writer tells of a trick sometimes played by a Siam- 
ese fruit-grower, to keep these very troublesome fellows out of 
his garden. He catches, in some way, one of their own party, 
sews him up in the skin of a tiger-cat, and turns him loose in the 
orchard. Of course the disguised Ape in the tiger skin hastens 
to join his family, and also of course they mistake him for a tiger- 
cat, and run for their lives, screeching and chattering like mad 
There is nothing they so hate and fear as one of these creat- 
ures, and it is said that they never again visit the garden where 
they have been so frightened. 

The Chimpanzee in the arms of his keeper in this picture, has 
a story, and much has been written about him. He belonged to 
a Zoological Garden in Berlin, and his name was Apollo. 



284 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



He was named — I believe- 
after his keeper, of whom he 
was extremely fond; and 
in the garden was a 
statue of still an- 
other Apollo, the 
famous Apollo Bel- 
vedere, near which 
was placed a favor- 
ite seat, as you see. 

The Chimpanzee 
was a great pet 







THE THREE APOLLOS . 






A BABOON FOR A PLAYMATE. 285 

among visitors, showing a partiality to ladies. He always slept 
in a bed, which he made up nicely himself, spreading the blanket 
and arranging the pillow. He drank like a person, ate at a 
table, and used a napkin at meals. He had his own tastes in 
food, and his pet dainty was a honey-cake, which would even 
cheer him when he was sad. 

He was as fond of play and noise as a boy, and he wore a 
whistle hung around his neck, with which he amused himself 
exactly as you boys do. 

Apollo was sometimes lonely ; and once his keeper, thinking 
it would please him — as it does many animals — to see himself in 
a glass, put a mirror into the cage. The Chimpanzee was at 
first delighted, and much excited. He looked eagerly at his 
new companion, tried to make him play with him, and to get 
acquainted. 

In some way, however, he became suspicious that all was not 
right. He examined the glass, looked behind it, and evidently 
saw that he had been cheated. He turned away disgusted, and 
took the disappointment much to heart, refusing for several 
days to be comforted. 

His constant playmate was a Baboon, whom you see sitting 
on the bench by the keeper. So warmly were they attached to 
each other, that when Apollo died, after some years, his com- 
panion could not live without him. He died very soon, it is 
supposed of grief. 

Another of the Chimpanzee family, which Du Chaillu tells 
about in Africa, he calls the Bare-headed Ape, because he is 
bald. This one — he says— builds for himself a roof of tree- 
branches, bound to the trunk of a tree, just above a convenient 
branch, which he can use for a seat. 



286 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

This roof is shaped Hke an umbrella, and under it sits the 
builder, with one arm around the trunk to hold himself on. 
There he eats and sleeps, and is sheltered as long as he chooses 
to stay in that part of the woods, or until the leaves wither 
and fall off, and he makes another. 

The natives call this Ape the Nshiego Mbouve, and the trav- 
eler had the good fortune to catch a baby of the family, which 
he kept some time as a pet. 

When he caught it, it was very young, and had a face as 
white as any human white baby's. It was about a foot high, 
and it cried '' Oo-ee, Oo-ee," over its dead mother's body. The 
poor little fellow looked so forlorn that he excited a great deal 
of pity among the men, and Du Chaillu took him to bring up. 
He was named Tommy, was soon as tame as a cat, and would 
eat everything the men did. 

Tommy was very fond of his master, and followed him every- 
where, climbing into his arms, and laying his head on his breast 
or shoulder. He liked being stroked and petted, as a cat does, 
and would keep still by the hour while it was done. 

He soon learned to like a pillow that his master made for 
him, and dragged it everywhere he went. He would not go to 
sleep without it, and if it was lost, he would howl and cry till 
some one hunted it up for him, to stop his noise. 

Tommy was also fond of good things to eat. Indeed, I fear 
he was somewhat greedy, and he soon grew cunning enough to 
run from one dinner-table to another, in the party. Every one 
gave him something, so he did not go hungry. 

When dinner was ready at his master's hut, Tommy would 
climb the center-pole till high enough to see what was on the 
table. Then he would decide which dish he preferred, and 

















NSHIEGO MBOUVE. 



288 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

come down to the side of his friend to be fed. Du Chaillu, 
not knowing, of course, what he had selected, would offer him 
one thing after another, but till he reached what Master Tommy 
had chosen, he would throw the food to the floor, and howl and 
stamp his foot like a very bad child. 

When he received what he wanted, he w^ould thank by a soft 
little sound, and hold out his hand to shake, in a way so coax- 
ing, that his naughtiness was forgiven on the spot. 

But Tommy had a worse fault than naughtiness ; he would 
steal. It seemed that he could not resist any bit of food that 
he fancied, or any fruit, though he knew it was stealing, and 
sneaked about it as a human thief will do. He was very cun- 
ning, too, though he sometimes was caught at it. 

When the weather grew cold, Tommy began to think he 
should like a bedfellow. Unfortunately, none of the negroes 
would let him share their bed, nor did his master exactly fancy 
it. At last the knowing little rogue hit upon a plan to have 
his own w^ay. He would w^ait till everybody was asleep, and 
then quietly steal into the bed of some negro friend, where he 
would stay till morning. 

He was generally awake before the men, and so slipped away, 
and was not found out. But though he was sometimes caught, 
and whipped for it, he preferred a warm bed, and he continued 
to steal it just the same. 

His master hoped to send his pet to America, but one day, 
when about five months old, he was taken ill, though no one 
knew the cause, and the next day he died. 

Other travelers in Africa say that Chimpanzees are knowing 
enough to catch spears which are thrown at them, and throw 
them back ; and if cornered, even to snatch them out of the 



OUR FOUR-HANDED FRIENDS. 289 

hands of their enemies, and use them as handily as men. They 
carry their babies in their arms or on their shoulders, as do the 
native women. 

In Sierra Leone it is said they are trained to carry water, to 
make beds, and sweep. In other places they sit in chairs and 
wear clothes, being able to partly dress themselves, and having 
pride in dressing gayly. 

On shipboard Chimpanzees have learned to reef and furl sails 
to light fires and cook food, even to dust furniture and clean 
floors. 

One kept in the London Zoological Garden ate eggs with a 
spoon, used a knife and fork and cup, at table. He would lock 
and unlock a door or a drawer, thread a needle, uncork bottles, 
clean boots, and box with his keeper. 

The Chimpanzee also washes his own face and hands, and 
sheds tears when he is hurt, even sometimes when he has done 
mischief, such as breaking a water jug. 

These are but few of the marvelous things told of this Ape, 
and any one who has watched the intelligent way in which they 
copy everything they see people do, can easily believe them. 

We have not yet made acquaintance with our four-handed 
fellow-creatures. Some thoughtful people believe that they will 
one day be trained to work for us as house-servants, and in other 
ways. Perhaps that is one of the things we're leaving for you 
youngsters to do when you grow up. 



290 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH. 

WHAT THEY SAW IN THE PARK. 

The most important day of the year to Marcy — her birthday 
— now drew near, and Uncle Karl had already warned her to 
make up her mind where she wanted to go on that occasion. 

Marcy and Ralph had indeed talked it over, but it did not 
require much discussion, for they agreed unanimously that the 
best thing to have, was a whole day in the Park, with its usual 
accompaniments of a fine dinner at a restaurant, a row on the 
little lake, and ice-cream in the grotto. The great attraction in 
the Park was the collection of animals, at least for these young 
animal-lovers. Several new creatures had come there to live 
since the children's last visit, and Uncle Karl prepared his 
sketch-book and a stock of sharp pencils, for he knew he 
should find plenty of work for them. 

The tenth of June came at last, and the first train after break- 
fast carried the birthday party to the city. They crossed the 
river in a ferryboat, and rode on the elevated railroad, high up 
in the air, where they could peep into people's second or third 
story windows, and look down on the unending stream of street 
cars, wagons, carts, and carriages in the street. This carried 
them quickly out to the Park, where they arrived in time for a 
long day's pleasure. 

Never was a day so crowded with nice times as that day. 










A PAIR THEY SAW IN THE PARK. 



292 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



They spent many hours looking at the animals; they rode in an 
elegant carriage drawn by goats. They fed the Gazelle, a beau- 
tiful but homesick-looking creature, standing sadly in a pen, 
where its wonderful swift limbs were of no use, and who gazed at 




DREAMING OF HOME. 



them with large dark eyes, and seemed to be dreaming of its 
old home in sunny Africa. 

They sailed on the lake, and threw crackers to the Swans, 
both black and white who floated slowly around the lake, 



THE TIGER'S LOUD PURR, 293 

making little sharp remarks to each other, probably criticisms 
on the staring crowd, or opinions as to the freshness of the last 
bit of cake they had received. 

They watched the antics of the Monkeys, listened to the 
barking of the Sea-Lion, and laughed at the loud purr of the 
sleepy Tiger. They went around the drive in a park phaeton, 
and about five o'clock they went out to a restaurant and ordered 
their own dinners, each to suit himself. 

Two of these dinners, I must admit, were rather queer, and 
not according to the order laid down on the bill of fare ; but 
they had what they chose, and it was of course nobody's busi- 
ness whether they began with pudding and ended with soup, on 
such an extra occasion as a birthday, which comes but once a year. 

All I can say is, everything was nice, and everybody was 
pleased, including the waiter, who began rather stiff, but proved 
to be a very smiling person. 

At seven o'clock they started for home, with their minds full of 
new questions to ask when their bodies were rested, and Uncle 
Karl's book well filled with rough sketches. 

The greatest stranger in the Park, who had arrived only a few 
days before, and was not going to stay long, and perhaps also 
the oddest one there, was the Aard-vark, whose picture Uncle 
Karl drew in two positions. 

Unfortunately this animal is a night-loving creature, and it 
is hard to find out how he lives and what he does. While 
people are awake and anxious to study him, he is curled up in 
the snug house he has dug for himself, asleep, and with no 
desire to be studied. Then when people are tired out and go 
to bed, Mr. Aard-vark and all the family come out to enjoy 
themselves, and hunt for something to eat. 



294 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



What they look for, and what they prefer to find, is one of 
the strong high houses of the white ants. These are built of clay, 




ONLY A VISnuK. 



and become very hard, so that men, and even heavy animals, 
are able to stand on them. 

The enormous claws of the Aard-vark— which you see in the 



HE SIM PL V HOLDS ON. 295 

picture— are just the things to tear a hole in the White Ants' 
— or Termites' — house, and his long sticky tongue is well fitted 
to thrust into the hole and sweep up the Ants by hundreds. 
Everybody in that part of the world knows that Termites are 
good to eat, for even the people like them. 

This curious animal is about a yard long, and a foot and a half 
high. When the children first saw him he was curled up in his 
cage, fast asleep, standing on his head, as you see him at the 
end of this chapter. 

The Aard-vark lives only in Africa, where ants are plenty, and 
his name means Earth Pig. His claws, though they look so 
dreadful, are used only for digging, and so far as is known he is 
a harmless creature. 

Another Ant-Eater, however, who lives in South America — 
the Ant Bear — is not so harmless, though he has no teeth, and 
never attacks any one, merely defending himself. 

His way of doing it is curious. He simply grasps his enemy 
in his arms, and holds on ; that is all. But as he can live a week 
or more without food, he just holds on patiently, while his vic- 
tim, be it man or savage animal, starves to death. It is a dread- 
ful way to fight, and he is sometimes found holding tight in his 
arms a wild animal, both dead. 

This Great Ant-Eater has been known to live some time in 
Zoological Gardens, where he eats eggs, licking them out of the 
dish with his long tongue like a rat's tail, and varying this diet 
with cockroaches, crickets, and other small creatures. 

The wonder of this creature is his tail, so long and bushy that 
it quite covers him up when he throws it over his back, as he 
does when he wants to sleep, working it exactly as though it 
had a hinge where it joins the body. 




- -^^i^:^^ 



THE WONDER OF THIS CREATURE IS HIS TAIL. 



ODD USE FOR A TAIL. 



297 



He has another use for his tail, which is as an umbrella, to 
protect him from rain. The Indians of South America take 
advantage of this fact, and rustle the leaves to make a sound 
like the pattering of rain-drops. The creature hastens to get 
up his umbrella, and while he is doing it, the Indians kill him. 

Why do they kill him ? Well, the same old reason ; he has 
** good meat" on his bones. 




STANDING ON HIS HEAD. 



298 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 



CHAPTER THIRTIETH. 

WITH A LONG NOSE. 

One of the funniest things at the Park was a row of four or 
five baby Elephants, swinging their big little bodies from side 
to side, looking sharply for cakes and peanuts from visitors, and 
politely holding out their long noses to receive gifts. 

*' Long noses ! " you say ? 

Yes, truly ; so say the wise men, and the unwise cannot deny 
it. The long member that we call a trunk, is really a nose, 
with a finger at the end of it. Who ever heard of a nose long 
enough to reach the ground when its owner stood up straight ? 
Why, it's worse than the man in the story book, who had a long 
black pudding hanging from his nose ! 

The Elephant, however, doesn't seem to find this feature 
any trouble. In fact, it is the most useful member he has. It 
is an arm, a hand, a pump, and a nose in one. Nothing would 
be more helpless than one of these great creatures without the 
trunk. 

Perhaps the most interesting animal in America just now, is 
a baby Elephant, born a few days ago (about the first of March, 
1880) in a menagerie in Philadelphia, partly because it is the 
first of its family ever born in our country, and partly because it 
is an interesting baby itself. 

Its mother is a performing Elephant by the name of Hebe, 




THE ELEPHANT DOESN't FIND IT ANY TROUB'.E. 



300 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

and there was nearly as much rejoicing over that baby as there 
is over the heir to a throne. To be sure, there were no cannon 
fired nor fireworks let off, as on the birth of a prince, but let me 
tell you what there was. 

Hebe began the performance with a wild shout of joy and wel- 
come. It was night, and most of the animals in the large col- 
lection were asleep ; but her cry was instantly answered by 
shouts and wild trumpetings from all the other Elephants, a 
dozen or so. The sleeping ones sprang to their feet at once and 
joined in the cries. 

This wakened the dogs about the place, and of course — after 
the manner of dogs — they at once fell to barking with all their 
might. In the next house were the cat family — lions, tigers, 
panthers, leopards, and others — fast asleep. The unusual sounds 
quickly awoke them, and seeing that something was the matter, 
they all added their voices, roars, howls, and cries, each after the 
fashion of his kind. 

It was a perfect Babel of talk ; and as the voices were loud, 
and each spoke his own language, the confusion was dreadful. 

Hebe forgot that she had begun it, and the noise frightened 
her. She broke loose from the great chains that held her, and 
started for the pen where the other Elephants were, determined 
to be with her friends, rolling her baby before her on the 
ground, while her Elephant friends tried frantically to break 
their chains and come to her help. 

The night watchmen ran for help, and the animal keepers 
were soon on hand to quiet the uproar. In a few minutes they 
convinced the cat family — in a persuasive way they have — that 
there was no need of their making a noise, while the Elephant 
keepers did the same in their part of the house. 



A TWO-HUNDRED POUND BABY. 3OI 

They then tried to get the baby away from Hebe, fearing that 
she would hurt it ; but she was very much alarmed, trembled all 
over, and refused to let anybody come near, till her particular 
friend and trainer petted and soothed her, and made her under- 
stand there was nothing to fear. 

She calmed down, and let them look at the little stranger, 
never allowing it out of her reach, however. That precocious 
baby stood up and wagged its absurd little tail, and flourished 
its trunk like any old Elephant. It was three feet high, and 
weighed a little more than two hundred pounds. Its trunk was 
one foot long, and its tail about the same length. It was cov- 
ered with coarse, stiff, scattering hairs, and looked like nothing 
in the world except a big Elephant. 

This little creature, you must know, is very valuable ; a hun- 
dred thousand dollars, it is said, would not buy it, and it is 
treated like a very distinguished personage. A private room 
has been built for Madam Hebe and her baby, with bars across 
the front to insure quiet ; and there they now spend their time, 
while crowds of people go to see them. 

The first time the Elephants were let into the ring to practice 
some of their performances, they all rushed off to call on the 
new arrival. They thrust their trunks between the bars, caress- 
ing Hebe and the baby, which she pushed to the front of the 
room near them. They expressed their pleasure by grunts and 
snorts, and other queer sounds, which were well understood by 
both mother and baby ; and as for that youngster, she strutted 
around and flourished her tiny trunk in reply. 

The little creature has already shown that she is no common 
stupid baby. She is very curious about this world she has 
got into, and all the time tries to start on trips of discovery. 



302 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

to find out things. But her mother does not allow her out of 
her reach. The moment the infant gets too far, she is quietly 
drawn back by Hebe's useful trunk. 

Everything in her reach she examines with the greatest inter- 
est ; turns over her mother's food, sniffing at it, but not trying to 
eat it ; and if a visitor leans against the bars, she fingers his 
clothes, fumbles over his buttons, and thrusts her trunk into his 
pockets. 

About half the time she sleeps, lying out full length on her 
side, and then her anxious mother has a little rest, though she 
will not let a stranger touch the baby even then. 

This interesting little creature will probably be named Colum- 
bia, for a public and show name ; but for her private friends in 
the bosom of her own family, her name is Lily. 

She eats nothing but her mother's milk, of which it is thought 
she gets about two gallons a day at present, she being about 
ten days old at the time of this writing. 

I want to tell you the story of another baby Elephant, that 
was caught in the island of Ceylon, and is told about by Sir 
Emerson Tennent, whose accounts of Elephants, and of hunting 
them, you will like to read when you get to grown-up books. 

When first caught, with his mother and a dozen of his wild 
friends, he was a very naughty baby indeed. He threw himself 
down on the ground, and kicked and screamed, and struck with 
his trunk, and acted much like a naughty two-footed baby. 

At last the men found that they must tie him up ; so they 
fastened a rope around one leg, and started towards a tree. 
But he preferred not to go, and, like a bad child, he held back 
with all his strength, catching at every tree and bush he passed, 
and screaming and roaring all the time. 



ANOTHER BIG BABY. 303 

When he was tied and left to himself, he spent his time in 
beating his trunk on the ground, flinging himself around, and 
blowing clouds of dust over himself. He was not, however, so 
unhappy as he appeared to be, for he never stopped eating so 
long as there was a morsel to be had. The men would now and 
then throw him a bunch of leaves, or something of the sort, and 
he would snatch it and eat, all the time crying and bawling at 
the top of his voice. 

Another young Elephant was caught at the same time, and it 
was pleasant to see, that both were as much pets of all the Ele- 
phant mothers in the party, as a baby is in a house among us. 
This second little fellow was very fond of his mother ; and when 
the men took her away to tie up — which they have to do till she 
gets tame — the youngster followed her. He thought she was 
being hurt, and he tried to defend her. He would seize the 
rope and run between the men, pushing and striking with his 
little trunk. 

When he became too troublesome the men had to drive him 
back to the herd. He went very slowly, as you've seen a child 
who doesn't wish to mind, yet dares not quite refuse. He looked 
back at every step, and shouted all the way. When he saw that 
he really must go, he went up to one of his old friends, and 
leaned himself against her forelegs, while she laid her trunk 
affectionately over him and caressed him. 

Here he stayed, moaning and crying, sobbing and shedding 
tears, too, till his mother was tied and left by the men, and then 
back he went to protect her again, striking every one who came 
near, till at last he had to be tied up by the first baby, when he 
joined him in eating and bawling. 

Sir Emerson Tennent was so pleased with these little creat- 



304 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

ures — hardly more than three feet high — that he took one home 
to live at his house. He soon became a great favorite with all 
the servants ; but his particular friend was the coachman, who 
built him a snug little house near the stable, where he lived 
himself. 

Fond as he was of his friend, he soon discovered a much nicer 
place than a stable. 

This was the kitchen. All babies have to eat a good deal, 
you know, because they grow so fast, and it seemed as if this 
big four-footed fellow never could get enough. He would spend 
hours in the kitchen, and was so funny to see, that he was fed 
with fruits and other nice things, besides what he picked up for 
himself. More than this, he often came into the dining-room, 
w^hen dessert was on the table, and was treated by the family to 
melons, cakes, and other sweets, of which he was extremely 
fond. 

Then, when he was out in the grounds, if he saw his master 
he would run up to him, twine his little trunk in his arm, in the 
most coaxing way, till he could resist no longer, and would take 
his always hungry baby to the fruit-trees. On the next page is 
a picture of him taking a slight lunch. He was not all the time 
eating, however ; he liked to work now and then. It was funny 
to see the wise and important air with which he would do little 
things, such as carry home a load of grass for the horses, from 
the field where it had been cut. 

He was extremely fond of water, as are all his family, and 
nothing pleased him more than to go to a pond or stream, where 
he could wade in and drink, and throw water all over himself 
from that wonderful trunk of his. When he came out, he would 
draw up dust, and throw that over his wet sides, which wasn't 



HOW HE DRANK. 



305 



half so nice. It was curious to see him drink. He would draw 
the water into his trunk, having first closed the nostrils by little 
trap-doors, to keep them dry, and when it was full, he would 
curl it around, put the end into his mouth, and spout the water 







^^^/r^^x^J: 



THE BABY S LUNCH. 



in. He drank so much that he always had plenty of water in 
his water-bags inside ; and whenever he wanted any he could 
draw it out again, by putting the end of his trunk in his mouth. 
Perhaps you don't see what he wanted to do with it ; but he 



306 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

did ; he had plenty of uses for it. In the first place, to spout 
over his back when he was warm and uncomfortable ; and in 
the second, to punish any one who offended him, by treating 
them to the same sort of a shower. 

He liked to swim, and could do it easily; but sometimes, in 
crossing a stream, even although over his head, he would choose 
to walk ; and he did, as calmly as if no water was there, holding 
just the tip of his trunk into the air to breathe. If his drinking 
seemed rather greedy, his manner of eating was as dainty as any 
lady's. He would pick up the smallest leaf, or the least berry, 
as carefully and as nicely as you could, and he never ate in a 
hurry. Big as this baby was, he was never known to " gobble," 
as some ill-mannered two-footed babies do. 

He would stand by the hour, and fan himself in the most 
lady-like way with a bunch of leaves, which he picked for him- 
self, and very droll he looked, too. When tired of that amuse- 
ment he would swing about, in the way all Elephants, tame 
or wild, are fond of doing ; sometimes it would be one leg 
swung back and forward, again it would be his trunk, or his 
whole body from side to side, and now and then it would be up 
and down, bending the knees and straightening them in turn. 
He would vary these strange performances by flapping his great 
ears, and throwing water or dust over himself. 

Whatever happened, he was never known to keep still, except 
when he slept, which he sometimes did standing up, leaning 
against something, though usually he lay down on his side. 

The thing that he hated above all others was to have one say 
'' Dah ! dah ! " to him. What that sound means in Elephant 
language, of course we don't know, but it is extremely offensive 
to the whole race. It has the effect of a sharp " No ! no ! " to a 



A NAUGHTY TRICK. 307 

baby who is in mischief. This Ceylon baby was fond of flowers, 
and would pick one as nicely as you can. He specially de- 
lighted in those which were fragrant, and he would select one 
after another till he had a bouquet, which he would smell and 
appear to enjoy as much as anybody. When in trouble or dis- 
tress, and I'm sorr>^ to say he sometimes had the toothache, he 
would cry, really shed tears, and moan pitifully. 

Nothing soothed him more than music. He would prick up 
his big ears and listen ; his little bright eyes would sparkle, and 
he would keep quite still as long as the pleasant sounds lasted. 
His curiosity was funny to see. He would examine with the 
greatest interest any new thing. Give him a box or a package, 
and he would open or untie it, turn everything over carefully, 
and inspect it on every side, never leaving it till he understood 
all about it. 

All this time he was growing, and though it seems funny to 
have a little Elephant three or four feet tall, coming into the 
dining-room to get his share of dessert, it isn't so nice when he 
grows bigger, and all on the table is not enough to satisfy him. 
Having learned the way to the sideboard, this little rogue would 
sometimes come in when no one was there, and not only help 
himself to fruit, which usually stood there, but — like other young 
people: — would often knock off china and glass that were in his 
way. This naughty trick at last lost him his pleasant home. 
Trying one day to get some oranges, he brushed off all the 
china and glass on the sideboard, and it was decided that he 
must go to a new home. 

He was now quite big, and fully able to learn to work; so he 
went to live with the grown-up Elephants, that work for the 
government of Ceylon. There he was at once adopted by a 
kind-hearted old Elephant " Auntie," named Siribeddi, who 



308 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

brought him up carefully, and taught him the manners and 
ways of well-behaved Elephants. 

Do you know that in the language of Hindustan, Elephants 
are called Hattie ? The word is Hathi, and means " Creature 
with a hand," but it sounds almost like our Hattie. 

Elephants are interesting and very knowing animals. They 
are much afraid of a fence, no matter how frail. A slight bam- 
boo structure will keep them away from the most attractive 
food ; but let a gate be left . open and they go in quickly 
enough. 

They do not like men either, and to keep them away from 
the rice-fields in India they make a scarecrow, or rather a Scare- 
Elephant. It is a gigantic figure of a man, dressed in flutter- 
ing rags, and armed with bow and arrows. If an Elephant is 
alarmed he moves off in perfect silence ; large as he is, he can 
pick his way between bushes and trees without a sound. 

If he gets into a wet place, where the ground is soft, and he 
is in danger of sinking, his first notion is to put something under 
his knees to keep himself up, and when Elephants are trained 
for use, they do not forget this trick of their savage days ; there- 
fore, their rider being the handiest object, he is usually the first 
to be put to this use. A rider that is wise will slip off suddenly 
and hasten out of reach. 

When tame, Elephants are taught many tricks, which seem 
wonderful for their size. It is said that the only thing neces- 
sary to do, is to give them an idea of what is wanted. They 
will practice the trick when alone. They are taught to stand 
on their heads, to walk on two feet, to give a military salute, to 
answer when talked to, to play on instruments, as the horn, to act 
in a theatrical performance, to dance, and to dine with people at 
a man's table, behaving with perfect propriety through all. 



'-'PLAYS ' POSSUM." 309 

They are very sensitive creatures, disliking extremely to be 
laughed at, and apt to be jealous if another is preferred. They 
understand when they are hurt for their own good, as in having 
a wound dressed, and will submit to painful operations, like 
having a tooth pulled. 

An Elephant baby in a menagerie was once much hurt, and 
made so wild by the pain that no one could get near him to 
help him. The keeper made his mother understand what was 
wanted, and the knowing creature at once seized him and held 
him down with her trunk, while the surgeon dressed the wound. 
She did it also every day till the little fellow was cured. 

When wild, the Elephant — like so many other animals — will 
'' play possum ; " that is, you know, pretend to be dead. He 
will lie down, and nothing will move him till men go away and 
leave him. Then he will spring quickly to his feet, and dash 
away through the woods screaming with joy. 

In some countries Elephants are eaten ; but people not native 
eat only the tongue or the foot. The foot, baked in a hole in 
the ground by a fire over it, is said to be delicious, and so ten- 
der that it may be eaten with a spoon. 

In the London Zoological Garden an Elephant is said to eat, 
every day, one hundred pounds of hay, three bushels of turnips, 
twelve cabbages, and five pounds of bread, besides the bale of 
straw for a bed, which he eats during the night. 

Like many other wild creatures. Elephants seem to know 
when their time to die has come ; it is said that they steal away 
from the herd, and seek out a quiet place in which to draw 
the last breath. One particularly retired valley in Ceylon was 
called the Elephants' Burying-Ground, because, from the many 
bones found there, it seemed to be a favorite spot for this use. 



3IO QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-FIRST. 

pussy's wild cousins. 

A PAIR of pussy's wild cousins lived in a house with front of 
iron bars, in the Park. They were the most powerful and grand 
relations she has ; the very royal family, not only of the Cat 
tribe, but of all animals besides. They were Lions. 

Before the children reached the Lion House, they heard a 
great roaring and excitement among the beasts, which live there 
in great cages, and they hurried over the little bridge, Ralph 
fairly running, to see what was the matter. 

Nothing was the matter, as he soon found out, only that din- 
ner-time had arrived, and the hungry creatures were grumbling 
because it was not ready to a second. When one began to 
speak his mind, of course every one else had to have his say, 
— therefore the excitement. 

Before the cage of these two great cousins of pussy they 
stopped in amazement. There were two in the cage, a Lion 
and a Lioness, and they seemed to be playing a game of leap- 
frog. It was no game, however, it was deadly earnest, as they 
saw in a moment. 

You see Mr. Lion was very hungry, and besides, he probably 
wanted the first chance at the meat ; so when the time came 
for it to be thrown in, he put his nose to the front edge of the 
floor, to see if it had come. Not finding it in that corner he 



A LAUGHABLE GAME, 31I 

hurried across to the other, keeping his nose to the ground, 
ready to seize it. 

No sooner would he reach one side, than the fear would seem 
to seize him, that it might possibly be on the other, and back 
he would go like a flash. Back and forth he went, as fast as he 
could, getting more furious every moment. 

Now, unfortunately, the cage was none too large for two so 
big animals, and when her ferocious lord rushed on one side, 
there was no room there for the Lioness. She therefore quietly 
jumped over him to the other side. But instantly he rushed 
back, leaving no room there. So back the amiable partner had 
to leap, being far too wise to find fault when he was in such a 
mood. 

So the game went on ; to keep out of his way the Lioness 
had to jump over him, first one side and then back again, and 
since he went as fast as he could, it kept her leaping all the 
time. It was a funny sight, and it never stopped till great 
pieces of meat were thrown in, and Mr. Lion had the first grab 
at them. Before we set him down as greedy, we must remem- 
ber that he is fed but once a day, and of course gets desper- 
ately hungry, so there's some excuse for his conduct. 

He was a great African Lion, with tawny-colored hair, and 
long dark mane, and he looked as though he would like to be 
free in his own wild country, and hunt for himself. 

It is pitiful sight to see one of these wild creatures, not tamed 
and made happy to stay, but kept in one little cage by force of 
iron bars. No wonder they walk back and forth in endless 
tramp, and pine and die of homesickness, as no doubt they 
often do. 

Marcy was so fond of all animals, that she did not much 




HE WAS A GREAT LION. 



THE OTHER SIDE OF LION-HUNTING, 31 3 

enjoy seeing them shut up, and she did not stay long ; but in 
Lions themselves, either in their native lands, or tamed and 
made happy, she felt the greatest interest. 

I need not tell you how a lion looks, I am sure. If you 
haven't seen one for yourself you have seen dozens of pictures of 
them ; but there are many curious and interesting things about 
the animal that may be you don't know. To begin with, do 
you know that Lions— like pussy — always walk on their tiptoes? 
and also — like their small domestic cousins — they like to sleep in 
the daytime, and go out at night? As with the cat, their claws 
draw in out of sight when not needed, and — like her again — 
their tongue is rough like a file, much rougher than hers, for a 
few licks from it will tear the skin from a man's flesh. 

In the hunt, also, they act like our pets, as you have seen 
them when after a mouse. They will creep silently and slowly 
towards their prey, hiding behind every bush, and making not 
the slightest noise till they are near enough, when with one 
flying bound they pounce on the shoulder of the victim. 

You have read many stories of how men hunt Lions, no 
doubt, and now I want to tell you the other side of the story ; 
how Lions hunt other animals. 

When they are far away from men, their way is very plain ; 
they simply steal up to their prey and pounce on it, as I said 
above. But Lions that live near men get to be more wary. 
They learn to be shy of anything that looks like a trap. The 
most hungry Lion, it is said, will not touch a horse that has a 
halter hanging, nor a dead animal that is guarded by a white rag 
fluttering from a stick, or by two sticks loosely tied, and clat- 
tering in the breeze. He will look and long for it, but not quite 
dare to touch, for fear of some trap or snare to catch him. 



314 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

The way Lions arrange their plans in Africa, and hunt in par- 
ties, is something very wonderful, almost too strange to believe. 
But hunters who have studied their ways insist that it is true. 

Suppose a traveler through that savage country stops for the 
night near where a party of six or eight Lions have their home. 
There are no villages, no hotels, no railroads or stages. The 
traveler has his own wagons, with oxen or horses to draw them, 
his own riding horses, and his own train of native servants. 

He camps out, ties the cattle to the heavy wagons, and feeds 
them, builds fires, eats his supper, and goes to sleep. 

Dark night comes on, and the little party of Lions go out to 
hunt. They come near the camp, and see food in plenty within 
their grasp ; but they know that men are there, and their desire 
is to get the cattle away from the protection of men. 

Now see how knowing are the creatures which we call the 
lower animals! When the oxen have eaten their supper, they 
lie down to rest and chew the cud, always turning their backs 
to the wind, and their faces to leeward. 

Why, do you suppose? 

Because they can smell and hear an enemy coming between 
them and the wind, but must depend on seeing what comes 
against the wind. So the patient, intelligent creatures lie, look- 
ing sharply into the darkness while men sleep. 

The wild animals are even more wise and cunning. Lions 
well know that their scent betrays them, and they carefully note 
which way the wind blows. In every party is an old Lion of 
strong scent ; and as soon as plans are made, all of the party 
except this one steal quietly away to leeward of the camp, and 
hide in the bushes a little way off. 

Before I go on let me tell you how it is that so large an ani- 



FR OM THE LION 'S SIDE. 3 1 5 

mal as a Lion can creep through bushes and trees without mak- 
ing a noise. It is because of the stiff hairs beside the mouth 
that we call whiskers. They look like those on pussy's face, 
only they are much larger and longer. Each one of these hairs 
has at the root a large bundle of nerves, making them extremely 
sensitive to the touch of anything. They are as useful in warn- 
ing the animal of things in the way as a pair of eyes. So the 
Lion can walk through the woods in the darkest night, guided 
entirely by them, and not touch tree or bush. Also he can keep 
his eyes on the game he is hunting, and not need to look where 
he steps. 

To go back to our hunting-party. When the rest are in their 
places, the old Lion shakes out his mane to spread the scent 
about, deliberately walks up towards the wind, and comes near 
the cattle. 

The instant his scent strikes them they spring to their feet, 
and turn their heads towards him, while he calmly walks nearer 
and nearer. 

The scent grows stronger. The oxen — poor frightened crea- 
tures — make a dash to get away ; but they are usually too well 
tied to break loose at once, and the foor-footed hunter has to 
use his last device to frighten them enough. 

He simply roars. That sound, which is nothing terrible as we 
hear it, is said to be made louder, and more fearful, by the ani- 
mal laying his head to the ground when he does so. 

No more is needed to throw every beast into a panic of fear. 
Halters snap like thread, and away they go, into the very jaws 
of the party awaiting them, their only one feeling, that they 
must run. This account of a Lion hunt from the Lion's side, is 
given by an African traveler, Mr. Gilmore. 



3l6 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

He also tells a curious story of a native, who reproached the 
king of beasts for roaring and threatening to attack them. 
This man took from the fire a burning brand, and walked into 
the woods towards the fierce brutes. 

When he came near them, he waved the brand around his 
head, and made them a speech something like this: 

*' O mighty lord, why do you come and disturb my cattle? 
Have you become too old or lazy to hunt, or have you turned 
weak-hearted ? Go your way. The quagga and the harte- 
beest are yours, the koodoo and the buffalo. They await 
you while you lose your time here. Leave, I say, or we shall 
think you no better than the hyena, whose associate you will 
become." 

Probably the Lions didn't know what to make of this speech, 
or perhaps they were convinced. Any way, though he was 
almost in their clutches, they did not touch him. 

Lions have been thought to be almost the most dangerous of 
pets ; and we have had many stories of those which had become 
apparently perfectly tame and gentle, suddenly turning in an 
instant to savage wild beasts, and flying at their best friends. 

A story is told, however, of King Theodore of Abyssinia 
having four tame Lions, which he kept all the time near him, 
and of which he was very fond. They traveled about with him, 
lived in the stables with his horses, and were never chained or 
shut up. They were tame and docile as cats, and like them 
fond of being petted and noticed, and so affectionate in their 
manners as to often frighten people. When King Theodore 
gave audience to people, he always had his four Lions near 
him. 

One of the most wonderful cases of Lions kept as pets is in 



I 



THE BABY LIONS. 3 1 7 

our own country, and may be seen, at any time. You may 
have seen short newspaper accounts of Mrs. Lincoln and her 
tame Lions, but the whole story has never been told, I believe, 
and you shall have it now. 

Four years ago, at about the same time, were born in a travel- 
ing menagerie — which happened then to be in New York — 
two families of baby Lions, five in all. 

The collection of animals being broken up while they were 
still very young, they fell into the hands of Mrs. Lincoln's hus- 
band ; and he — as the most sensible thing he could do — handed 
the queer family of babies to his wife to care for. 

They were pretty little creatures, about the size of three- 
months' old kittens, and looked very much like young tabby 
cats. Their parents were entirely wild. 

Mrs. Lincoln had no children, and she devoted herself to her 
strange babies ; but not knowing exactly how to feed them, 
three died before she found out what was best for them. The 
two that were left she fed on goat's milk, using a regular baby's 
nursing-bottle, and she soon had the satisfaction of seeing them 
grow strong and well. 

She named them Willie and Martha, and they were playful 
as kittens, rolling and tumbling over each other on the floor, 
chasing each other around the room, and even coaxing the cat 
to join in their romps. 

They slept on their mistress's bed, ran all over the house, and 
were fond of a ball as a cat. Even now, though he is four years 
old and grown up, the play is not all out of Willie. He enjoys 
a frolic with a cocoa-nut as much as puss enjoys a marble, and 
in the same way. 

Whenever they wished, these two wild babies went into the 



3l8 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

yard in the heart of Boston, where they live, and played by the 
hour, the cat being generally of the party. If tired they would 
lie on the lounge, or before the fire — when they had grown too 
big for their mistress's lap ; and if hungry they would cry for 
something to eat, not exactly as a human baby — as some travel- 
ers have said — nor like a cat, but with a peculiar hoarse sound, 
like nothing in the world but a Lion. In every way they acted 
like domestic animals. 

As they grew larger, Mrs. Lincoln began to teach them tricks. 
At first Martha was the more teachable. Willie would look on, 
but evidently preferred his ease, and to see her perform ; so his 
playmate got ahead of him. 

After a while, however, Willie in his rough play threw Martha 
against the corner of a box and hurt her back. A slight hump 
grew on the injured part, and she was not so well able to per- 
form her tricks. 

As soon as Willie noticed this — strange as it may seem — he 
suddenly became very docile. He took up every one of the 
tricks he had seen her do, and did them better than she did. 
It seemed as if he understood the harm he had done, and 
wished to make up for it as well as he could. 

Till they were two years old, these interesting pets ran about 
the house and yard as they chose ; and any visitor going into 
the house might be shown into the room with two pretty big 
Lions. 

But now the neighbors began to be alarmed ; complaints were 
made ; a stronger house was built for the Lions, and they were 
shut up. This picture was taken about that time, and you can 
see how big they were, and will not be surprised that strangers 
were nervous about them. The family were not afraid of them, 




THE LIONS AT HOME. 



320 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

and but for the prejudices of others, the strong room would per- 
haps never have been built. 

Their mistress could lead them anywhere, with a mere halter 
around their necks, and she went in and out of their cage as 
freely as though it were her own chamber. 

So they went on growing bigger and more affectionate every 
day, till a few weeks ago Martha, who had never been strong 
after her hurt, became ill, and at last died. 

This took place at night ; and the moment she drew her last 
breath, Willie gave notice of the fact to all whom it might con- 
cern — and many whom it didn't — by howls and roars. 

The mistress jumped out of bed, and ran down to see what 
was the matter. She found him lost in grief and sorrow over 
the dead body of his playmate.^ 

This was a dreadful affliction. Mrs. Lincoln herself grieved 
almost as if she had lost a child, and poor Willie took it very 
hard. He would scarcely allow his beloved mistress out of his 
sight. He was so lonely and unhappy that she actually was 
obliged to sit up with him for several nights. The moment she 
left him he would carry on so fearfully that she could not rest, 
nor could any one in the neighborhood. 

He has somewhat recovered from his grief now, and it has not 
affected his temper. In fact he is more loving and affectionate 
than before, and evidently regards his mistress as his best friend 
and only consolation. 

Lions are night-loving animals, and most of their roaring is 
done at that time. In spite of the fact that from his babyhood 
Willie has lived with people, and been kept awake much of the 
daytime, he still — like puss again — delights to exercise his voice 
in the darkness, when all the world is still. 



A VIS-IT TO THE HON. 32 1 

His mistress then has to leave her bed, and administer to the 
troublesome fellow a little punishment with a switch, when he 
lies down like a whipped dog, and keeps still till he forgets it. 

This Lion is fed once a day, about five o'clock, on ten or 
twelve pounds of raw meat and bones. When dinner-time 
comes, and he knows he is going to be fed, he gets almost as 
impatient as the Lion in the Park. He will bound from one 
end of his room to the other, banging against the sides as though 
he would tear it down, and roar, and fairly howl. 

The meat is thrown in from the top, and Master Willie seizes 
each piece as it falls, till he has it all dragged under his body, 
and then he gobbles it down in a short time. On Sundays he is 
not fed at all, and he does not expect it, nor ask for it ; that is, 
get impatient. He knows Sunday as well as anybody, and never 
mistakes the day. 

The reason he is not fed, is on account of an old menagerie 
belief, that animals who eat raw meat and do not exercise much, 
need one day's rest, out of seven, for their stomachs. 

Willie's house opens out of his mistress's sitting-room, and he 
has the door open much of the time, especially at night, for the 
benefit of the fire in winter, and society always, for he's a soci- 
able fellow. Going through that door the visitor finds himself 
in a narrow passage before the bars, all the rest of the room 
being the Lion's. 

The cage is as large as a medium-sized bedroom, perhaps ten 
by sixteen, and from it a door opens into a narrow passage 
between two brick walls, where he goes to get the fresh air. 

A visitor not long ago went to see Willie and Willie's mis- 
tress, and I shall tell you what she saw. Mrs. Lincoln had been 
away for a week, and just returned, and had not yet spoken to 



322 QUEER PETS AT MARCY' S. 

her pet. He had been very lonely while she was gone, and had 
howled and cried after her every day. 

It was in the early evening, and the Lion was sleeping after 
his heavy supper. The mistress took a little hand lamp in one 
hand and went to the Lion's door. He lay stretched out, fast 
asleep. 

^' Why, baby ! " she began, as one would talk to a child, 
"aren't you ashamed to be sleeping there, and mamma just got 
home? Aren't you going to get up and see me?" 

The moment he heard her voice he sprang up, and came to 
the door. He rubbed against the bars as a cat would, and made 
a queer sound, between a gentle roar and a whine, to show how 
pleased he was. 

She put her hand through the bars and patted him, and he 
caressed the hand, and expressed his joy in every way. Then 
opening the door she went in, lamp still in hand, and fastened it 
behind her. 

" Now come and kiss mamma," she said, fondly. 

The great fellow leaned up against her, lifted his enormous 
head, and touched his lips to hers. 

"No; you needn't smell of my dress," she said, as he snuffed 
about her. " Kiss me again." 

Again he put up his lips, and was evidently as glad to see her 
as she was to see him. 

" Did mamma go away and leave him, and was he awful lone- 
some without her! "she said, affectionately, talking baby talk 
exactly as a mother does to her child, and making a picture that 
no one can imagine the strangeness of who has not seen it. 

" Now lie down," she said, after a while ; and with a half groan, 
half growling protest, against showing off at such an untimely 



A STRANGE SCENE. 323 

hour, Willie flung himself on the floor, with his head flat on the 
boards. 

" Now roll over," she said. Grumblingly he rolled over, like a 
big, clumsy dog. 

" Sit up ; " and up he sat, obedient as any dog. 

" Now shake hands." He gave his paw. 

" Stand up ; " and up he got, all the time with the queer, 
good-natured, complaining noise. 

'' Now," she said at last, pointing to the wall, " put your feet 
up there, to show how tall you are." 

Up went those great paws, higher and higher, till they must 
have reached nearly eight feet from the floor, and the visitor 
began to look for them over the top. 

He completely overshadowed the woman at his side. How 
easily one blow of his paw would kill her ! It was fearful to 
see. 

" He has taken cold and is feverish," said Mrs. Lincoln calm- 
ly, passing her hand over his nose familiarly. '* His nose is 
hot." 

Her visitor's whole face was hot. She was in deadly terror 
lest the lamp held so close to his flying mane should set it on 
fire, and he should suddenly turn into a wild beast. 

She drew a sigh of relief when she came out. But Mrs. Lin- 
coln had not the slightest thought of fear, and she declared that 
there was not the least danger ; that he grew more affectionate 
every day, and had never put out a claw to her in his life, 
though she was sometimes obliged to whip him ; nor had shown 
a desire to attack anything, even a cat or dog. 

His whipping — as I told you — he always took meekly, know- 
ing that he deserved it, and never dreamed of resenting it. 



324 QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

This Lion, though four years old and so well-grown, being 
three feet four inches high at the shoulder, and eleven feet two 
inches long, including the tail, is still growing as fast as ever. 
It is thought by his friends that he will be the biggest Lion in 
the world, and perhaps, at some not very distant day, he may 
go back to the life with which he began his career, as the greatest 
attraction of some traveling animal show. 

Postscript. — Since this chapter was printed something more has happened to Willie 
— the lion whose story you have read. He has joined a traveling circus, and his busi- 
ness in future will be to carry a chariot around in the ring. When the circus people 
went to the house to take him away, they brought ropes and men used to wild animals. 
They then backed the cage up to the front door, and gave the order to let him out. 
But they did not know the gentle beast. His mistress led him out of his old quarters, 
through her own sitting-room into the hall, and to the new cage. Willie looked at it 
with interest, snuffed at it, and quietly walked in. I will not tell you of the grief of 
his mistress, who mourns almost as if she had lost a child, but will only say that his 
new owners mean to humor the great fellow, give him a good deal of liberty, and if 
possible keep him always as tame and good-tempered as he is now. 



SHE KNEW THERE WA S A JOKE. 325 



CHAPTER THIRTY-SECOND. 

A MERMAID. 

Uncle Karl had greatly excited Marcy on the way to the 
Park, by teUing her they had lately added to their collection of 
animals, a living Mermaid. You have heard of Mermaids, and 
possibly you have seen pictures of them as they have been de- 
scribed by sailors — beautiful women as far as the waist, with 
long hair falling over their shoulders, and scaly fishes from the 
waist down. 

You can see what Marcy was thinking of, and of course she 
laughed at her uncle, and told him he couldn't deceive her. 

But he positively declared it was true, and he refused to tell 
anything more about it, except that its scientific name is Sirenia, 
and the Portuguese call it the " Woman-fish." 

Marcy knew there was some joke about it, and when she 
reached the Park she was naturally anxious to find out what it 
was, and reminded Uncle Karl of his promise to show it to her. 

Uncle Karl had already consulted with the keeper, and per- 
suaded him to draw off the water that he might make a draw- 
ing of the wonderful creature. So with a great deal of mystery 
he led the way to a tank, and when the children looked eagerly 
over the side they saw — this ! 

Ralph shouted, but Marcy was disgusted, and almost vexed. 



326 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



The color came quickly into her face, and she said it was a hor- 
rid creature, the ugliest she had ever seen. 

It was not attractive. It looked something like a long barrel. 




A MERMAID OUT OF WATER. 



It has no neck to tell where the head began, no ears except two 
slits, so small they could hardly be seen, and almost no eyes, or, 
at any rate, eyes so small and far back in the wrinkles that there 



HOW THE NOTION AROSE. 32/ 

might about as well be none. Besides this, its skin looked like a 
prickly pear, with here and there a hair sticking out, and its nos- 
trils were shut up by valves when not needed for breathing. 
Above all, it looked about as bright as a lump of dough. 

Marcy was turning away to look at something else, when 
Uncle Karl began to tell her about it, and she soon grew quite 
interested, though it was very hard for her to believe that this, 
and a near relative, are really the creatures which sailors have 
clothed in such poetical forms, and called Women of the Sea. 

What led to this strange notion was the habit these creatures 
have, of standing up — you may call it — in the water, with the 
upper part in the air, and the flippers crossed on the breast, or 
the young one clasped in the arms. Seen in dim light, across 
the tossing waves, by sailors ready to believe any wonder they 
think they see, it is, after all, not so very strange. 

But one doesn't look like a charming object in the cold light 
of day, shut up in a wooden tank, does it ? 

The name of this animal is the Manatee, from Manus, a hand, 
and though he lives in the water, he is really an animal and not 
a fish. He breathes with lungs, and not with gills like a fish, 
and he is warm-blooded, while fishes are cold-blooded. 

He looks clumsy, and so he may be in a box without water, 
but in his native element he is as lively as any fish. His broad 
flat tail and his fins, which are really hands and arms covered 
with skin, help him along finely. 

You may not think those awkward-looking fins are much like 
hands, but the fingers are easily felt through the skin, and you 
can see for yourself that he has five nails, like finger-nails, on 
each one. 

Perhaps you think with Marcy that he's a stupid-looking 



328 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

object, but I can assure you he's not half so stupid as he looks, 
and he has lovely traits of character. He's an extremely social, 
good-tempered fellow, and tender-hearted also, for when caught 
he never attempts to bite, but sheds tears at being taken from 
his friends — so says Mr. Gosse. 

Manatees collect in parties and go about together, never quar- 
reling like many animals, but always gentle and playful with 
each other. Best of all, he is affectionate, and if one of a party 
is hurt all the rest come to his aid. 

Nearly every mother, from the elephant down to the smallest 
insect, is tender of her little ones, and will fight for them till she 
is herself killed, but these animals are just as fond of each 
other. The fathers protect the mothers, and the mothers pro- 
tect the babies. In fact they never desert each other in the 
greatest danger. 

In their parties the fathers go ahead, the mothers behind, and 
the young ones in the middle. They are hunted for their flesh, 
which is considered delicious, and for their skin, which makes 
strong leather; and when a harpoon is thrown into one, all the 
rest crowd around and try to pull it out or bite it off. Not one 
thinks of taking care of himself, nor of fighting the hunter; so 
the fisherman — if he may be called so — can secure as many as he 
chooses, often the whole troop. 

This creature, who you see is interesting after all, in spite of 
his stupid looks and his clumsy ways, lives on the sea-shore, in 
a bay, or at the mouth of a river in a tropical country, generally 
in South American waters, and he sometimes takes journeys up 
the rivers a long way from the sea. He is from ten to fifteen 
feet long, and perhaps longer. 

The Manatee has another name — Sea-Cow — and he feeds on 



STRANGE PAIR OF FRIENDS. 329 

grass and plants. Not only on those growing under water, but 
it is said he comes partly out of the water to get certain land 
plants. 

The gentle creature is easily tamed. In an old magazine, pub- 
lished more than a hundred years ago, there is an account of a 
tame Manatee kept by the governor of Nicaragua, in a lake on 
his estate. This good-natured creature would not only come to 
dinner when he was called, crawling out of the water and up to 
the house, but he would allow people to ride on his back. As 
many as ten people, the old story says, would often mount him, 
and ride safely across the lake. 

More lately, Manatees have often been kept as pets. One liv- 
ing in a lake belonging to one of the Caciques of Hispaniola, 
answered to its name of Matto, and was full of play as a mon- 
key, not only frolicking with its own kind, but with the young 
Indians. 

A Manatee kept in the Public Gardens of Rio, became attached 
to a white swan, and would follow it all around the pond. The 
swan, I fear, did not appreciate this warm affection, for it took 
no notice, and was said '' not to care." This friendly Manatee 
would come to the shore and take grass from the hands of visit- 
ors. One of these creatures was sent from Demarara to the 
London Zoological Gardens. She was young, and only about 
seven feet long. She traveled in a tank hung so as to swing 
with the motion of the vessel, and not get hurt against the 
sides. She was fond of lettuce, and some vegetables cut in slices. 

A few years ago a Manatee was captured in the Orinoko River, 
and sent to the Philadelphia Gardens. This one was put into a 
fine glass tank, which was kept perfectly clean and nice. They 
hoped to make her so contented that she would live a long time; 



330 



Q UEER PE rS A T MARC V ' S. 



but she did not enjoy a glass house, though she soon learned not 
to be frightened when the water was drawn off for house-clean- 
ing and changing the water. Her taste was for mud, and she 
was never so lively as when heavy rains discolored the water. 

The question of what to eat was a troublesome one, for she 
had her notions. In vain they offered her biscuits, cabbages, 
and at last every vegetable in the markets. She would not 




A PRETTY FACE. 



touch one. Finally, they had a load of seaweeds and water- 
plants brought, and she tumbled them over till she found one 
she could eat. 

That matter was settled, they thought, and orders were given 
for a supply of this particular plant. All went well for a month, 
when the supply failed ; not one more was to be found in the 
Schuylkill or the Delaware. She had exterminated the plant. 

Then Madam Manatee had to eat something else, and they 
would bring loads of weeds and plants to her. She would turn 



SHE WOULD NOT BE HAPPY. 



331 



them over, and select one and another that she would conde- 
scend to eat. 

To give her a chance to come out of water, if she wished, a 
shelf was arranged, but she didn't seem to care for it, and never 
showed the least desire to try it. Everything was done that 
was possible to make her contented, but she was never happy, 
and before long she died. 

While Uncle Karl drew the side view of the Manatee, Ralph 
stole around the other side of the tank and looked him square 
in the face. A funny-looking fellow he was, too, so funny that 
he had his picture taken from that point also, and here it is on 
the other page. 

Pretty face, hasn't he ? 



mt 






i^tllPYXi'^iAr^ 



^^^m^^W^^^^^^L f \i Wi. 










ANOTHER MERMAID, THE DUGONG. 



332 QUEER PETS AT MARCY' S. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRD. 

A STRANGE STORY OF A HORSE. 

A BOOK about animals would hardly be complete without 
something regarding one of the most noble, as well as the most 
common, animals we have — a Horse. 

The Horse has been so long used to living with men, like the 
cat and the dog, that we can hardly think of them as ever hav- 
ing been wild, and stories of their intelligence and their almost 
human actions are to be read in every newspaper. 

There is one story of a Horse, however, somewhat different 
from these, and so odd that I'm afraid you'll think I made it 
up. But I did not. Every word is true; and since he had been 
a great pet, though not, to tell the truth, at Marcy's, I think 
his story may go in here, and I'm sure you'll be as much inter- 
ested in it as were the children when it was told to them. 

The unfortunate hero of the story belonged to a circus, had 
been a great pet, and had tramped the country over from one 
end to the other, galloped around in a stupid ring, and learned 
various tricks to amuse you boys. No one could say he did not 
honestly earn his living. 

But at last he met with an accident. And when he arrived 
in Chicago, in 1850, his master found that he could no longer 
take his part in the performances ; and, of course, he was a bur- 
den to a traveling circus. His owner, though a showman, was 



NOTHING TO EAT. 333 

kind-hearted, and attached to the unfortunate fellow, and he 
couldn't bear to turn him out to starve, nor did he like to kill 
him. In this emergency a gentleman living in Chicago, a physi- 
cian and a wealthy man, knowing that he was a valuable animal, 
and thinking that he could cure him of his hurt and make him 
useful, offered to take him, and promised to see that he never 
came to want. Upon these terms the owner gladly left him, 
and took his circus to parts unknown. 

Well, the Doctor found himself disappointed about curing 
the hurt, and before long it became evident that he would never 
more be able to work. So he gave him a warm corner of his 
barn, and made him comfortable the rest of his days — do you 
suppose ? By no means. He turned him out to starve. 

Perhaps that is a harsh way to put it. I don't suppose he 
really said any such cruel thing to himself. He probably 
thought, '' The old Horse will never be of any use to me, and 
I don't want to buy oats and hay for him, so I'll let him run 
and pick up his own living." 

But the fact was, it was late in the fall, the grass was dead 
on the prairies, and there was no living to pick up. To be sure, 
he had now and then a bite out of a load of hay in the street, or 
a nibble out of the back of a farmer's wagon, and sometimes 
perhaps a potato or a turnip from a barrel in front of a grocer's 
shop ; but with all his efforts he found barely enough to keep the 
breath of life in him, and not enough to keep him from looking 
half dead, and wholly miserable. He grew thin, his ribs stuck 
out, and he looked more like the frame of a horse wandering 
about the streets, than he did like the plump fellow he was 
when his master left him. 

At that time Chicago was not so big as it is now, and after a 


















\ 









•-^ 



<v« 



z^^^"- 

sT^ 






rr/m-y^ 






^ V 



WHEN HE WAS YOUNG. 



THE TOILET, 335 

while people began to notice the wretched wanderer and to in- 
quire about him ; and before long everybody knew the story, 
and felt indignant at his fate. At last two young men, who 
wanted to shame the hard-hearted Doctor, and put the old Horse 
out of his misery at the same time, concocted a plan for a dona- 
tion party. 

The first thing they did was to put an anonymous notice in 
the two daily city papers (for which the publishers took no pay, 
by the way), setting forth the sorrows of the poor old Horse, 
his life of hard work, and his unhappy fate, and calling on every 
one who had a heart to pity a suffeiing fellow-creature to bring 
to the City Hall Square, on a certain day named, anything in 
the way of horse provisions that he felt able to contribute, 
that the unfortunate pauper might end his days in peace and 
comfort, and their eyes no more be vexed by his wandering 
ghost. 

Then somebody wrote a poem on the text, "Why should 
the poor despise the rich ? " And some one else printed it 
neatly on small sheets of paper, ready to sell on the great 
day. 

When that day arrived the wretched straggler was captured, 
and an unpromising-looking creature he was. He was one of 
those bay and white-spotted Horses so often seen in a circus, 
and had been the owner of a beautiful flowing mane and long 
sweeping tail. But now the dust of the street — where he slept 
— clung to his rough skin, bits of straw and dead leaves orna- 
mented his tangled mane, and his half-switched-out tail hung 
limp and ugly. 

His captors, nothing daunted, procured castile soap and soft 
water, and washed and combed and thoroughly cleaned him, 



33^ QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

decorating his mane with ribbons, and covering his lean sides 
with a comfortable blanket. 

In the meantime all the available music of the city had come 
together. There were no regular bands, but every one who 
had an instrument (wind or stringed) and could play it, came 
out and joined the merry party. 

When all was ready the procession started. First came the 
motley musicians, playing with a good heart, if not with much 
skill ; next the gaunt hero, bearing on his back the orator of 
the day (one of the two young men) ; lastly a miscellaneous 
party of citizens. They paraded through the principal streets 
to the City Hall Square, being careful to pass the cruel Doc- 
tor's house. A touching speech was made, appealing to the 
charitable in the crowd. Copies of the poem were sold to who- 
ever would buy, and many dimes and some dollars were drawn 
out of pockets and purses, while loads of hay, bags of oats and 
corn, and barrels of bran piled up in the yard. 

When the whole thing was over, and the two originators of 
the performance counted up gains, it was found that there was 
money enough to hire a barn, and a man to take care of him all 
winter, and food enough to keep a hundred horses till summer 
should cover the prairies with grass again. A barn was pro- 
cured, the provisions removed, a man hired for the work, and the 
old circus Horse was duly installed in his comfortable home 
that very night. 

And how do you suppose the Doctor felt all this time? I can 
imagine his shame when he saw the odd procession from behind 
his blinds. But the truth is, he never expressed his feelings (so 
far as I can discover), and therefore history is silent on that 
point. 



HIS MYSTERIOUS FATE. 



337 



But a strange thing happened before the people finished 
talking about it. One dark night the old Horse disappeared, 
and it is supposed (though it is only a guess), that the Doctor 
enticed him away, and put an end to all his troubles by a bullet 
through his brain. 

At any rate, he was never seen again. 




AT HIS TRICKS. 



338 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 



CHAPTER THIRTY-FOURTH. 

THE AIR CASTLE, AND THE FAMILY THAT LIVED IN IT. 

Before the time of the visit to the Park, something happened 
next door to Marcy's that resulted in giving her a new pet. To 
tell the whole story I must go back a little. 

About the first of May of that spring, a new family came to 
live in the neighborhood. They were very gay and lively, fine 
singers and great travelers, spending their winters in the South, 
and returning to the North when it became too warm for com- 
fort. 

The family was small, in fact it was a bridal couple, and they 
had as much trouble as young housekeepers generally have, to 
settle upon a suitable home. Not that questions of rent, street 
cars, markets, and such things entered into account. The Oriole 
family never rented, they always built, and they kept their own 
private conveyance, while going to market was only fun to 
them. 

An attractive place to build was the great thing to find, and 
after much earnest talk and many trips about the town, the place 
was selected — a beautiful crotch in a branch of a tree near a 
garden. 

As soon as the spot was decided upon, building began. No 
masons and carpenters and stone-cutters made clumsy botchwork 



A DIVISION OF LABOR. 



339 



of this house. Far from it. Mr. Oriole himself collected the 
materials, while Madam arranged them and built the house. 




DISCUSSING THE NEW HOUSE. 



340 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

Beautiful things ttie busy young fellow brought to decorate 
their swinging castle in the air * stems of flax and other vege- 
table fibers ; long strings which he found dangling from the tele- 
graph wires, left by runaway kites shipwrecked there : pieces of 
fish-line with rusty hook still on ; long horse-hairs, and many^ 
other nice things. 

All about the neighborhood he sought carefully for suitable 
and pretty objects, and one day he brought a strange and curi- 
ous thing, such as perhaps no Oriole had ever been able to find 
before. It was long, and delicate, and white, and the busy little 
wife carefully wove it into the walls of her pretty house. 

That very day the home was finished. It was a long, hang- 
ing, purse-shaped affair, beautifully woven of the various mate- 
rials she had received, strongly stitched together by long horse- 
hairs, and firmly sewed to the branch above. You can see here 
a picture of it, with the family itself, Mr. Oriole apparently having 
some final suggestions to made, while Mrs. Oriole roundly de- 
clares that nothing can improve it, and she'd like to see any bird 
in the neighborhood with a more comfortable home than that. 

I must tell you how the birds were dressed. The little builder 
wore a sober dress, of dull yellow or orange, trimmed with 
black and brown, quite in good taste ; but Mr. Oriole was the 
least bit of a dandy in looks. His coat and cap, to be sure, 
were black, but his vest was of the most gorgeous orange and 
scarlet, his black coat was trimmed with white and orange, 
and above all, his boots and stockings were light blue. 

Busy times soon came for this gayly-dressed little fellow, for 
now five pretty, pink-tinted, and delicately-spotted eggs were 
placed on the soft bed of cow's hair and sheep's wool, which had 
been carefully gathered from the bushes and fences, and nicely 



THE ENEMY IN THE HOUSE. 341 

spread in the nest, and Madam took her place on them for her 
summer's work of raising a young family. He had now to keep 
her supplied with good things to eat, and those who have noth- 
ing else to think about do get dreadfully notional about their 
food. Besides this work, he had to entertain her dull hours 
with his singing, for there is a good deal of monotony in sitting 
at home in one spot, for three long weeks, as anybody can see 
by trying it. 

The Oriole never seemed to get tired, however. Every day 
he made long excursions into the garden, looking under every 
leaf and behind every twig for a nice little beetle, or a soft fat 
grub, of which Madam was specially fond. When she had 
dined he would settle himself on a branch near her, and sing 
his finest to amuse her. 

This pleasant life went on till the three weeks had passed, and 
one fine day the egg-shells were broken, and five baby Orioles 
opened their eyes on the bright world. They opened their 
mouths too, and kept father and mother both, very lively finding 
enough to fill them. 

Now the tree in which the Orioles lived hung over the roof of 
a house near Marcy's, as I told you. In this house lived a sort 
of a monster in the bird world — a boy. His name was Will, and 
he had, from the first day the new family arrived, looked with 
longing eyes upon their pretty house. 

Will was — I'm sorry to say — that cruel kind of a boy called 
a "■ bird's-nester," and he fairly ached to get the beautiful swing- 
ing castle, with its treasures, into his hands. But the roof was 
so steep that for some time he feared to attempt it. At last, 
however, when the peeps of the young birds had driven him 
nearly wild, he determined to try. 



342 QUEER PETS AT MAR CVS. 

Without letting anybody know the cruel thing he intended, 
he stole out of a window and crawled along the peak of the 
roof. When under the branch, he carefully stretched up to 
the nest, which he pulled away from its fastenings, while the 
pretty owners flew about in distress and terror. 

He cared nothing for their trouble, but he soon had enough 
of his own to think of, for having possession of the nest, he 
found that he couldn't get back again. He was afraid to let 
go of the branch, lest he should slip and roll off the steep 
roof. 

While he is in this uncomfortable position, which he well 
deserved, I will tell you about something else in the house. 
Will's mother had, some time before this, taken a young girl 
to adopt from an orphan asylum, whose name was Mary. 

Mary was a very nice girl, and her life had been so sad that 
the prospect of a pleasant home with Will's mother was a happy 
one. The family liked her, and it was as good as settled that 
she was to stay always, when, a few weeks before this day, 
something strange had happened. 

Will's mother lost a piece of valuable lace. She left it on the 
table in her room, no one had been there but Mary, yet when 
she looked for it, it was gone. The house was searched, for she 
could not bear to suspect Mary ; but when weeks passed, and it 
could not be found, she sorrowfully concluded that the girl was 
the thief, and a thief she could not have in the house. 

She forgot the family that lived in the castle in the tree, and 
never remembered that the Oriole family are very sharp-eyed 
when looking for building materials. 

The very morning that Will decided to try for the nest, was 
the one in which Mary had been told that she must go back to 




ANOTHER CASTLE IN THE AIR. 



344 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

the asylum with a bad name, and she went sadly to her room to 
pack her things to go. 

Everything was in the trunk, and plenty of tears dropped in 
with them, and the lonely girl sat down by the window to rest, 
when she heard a faint cry of " Mary ! Mary ! " 

It seemed to come from outside, and she put her head out of 
the window to see. There, half way down the steep roof, was 
Will, holding on for dear life, and getting more and more 
frightened as he grew tired. 

In a moment the girl forgot her own trouble in his danger. 
She slipped off her shoes, and stepped cautiously out her win- 
dow into the eaves-gutter which ran along the edge. Quickly 
creeping up to him, in imminent danger of slipping off, she 
reached up and seized his hand, and, by strange good luck, 
succeeded in steadying him and guiding him into the open 
window, just as his mother came in to say the time had come 
for Mary to go. 

In a few words the story was told. The generous girl had 
risked her own life to save the boy's. What was a bit of lost 
lace to the life of her only son ? In a moment she resolved that 
Mary should not go, that she would try and cure her of her 
fault. 

She told her so, and Mary burst into tears of gratitude and 
joy. Will's mother then turned to her son to reprove him. He 
was looking eagerly at the treasure which had so nearly cost 
him his life, and which he had held on to through all his terror. 

" See, mamma," he said, to avert the threatened reproof, 
" what a curious hang-bird nest ! " 

" I can't bear to see it, my son," she began sternly, when her 
eyes fell upon it, and she started. 



THE LACE IS FOUND, 345 

" Why ! — let me see it^why ! there's my lace this minute," 
she exclaimed breathlessly, '' built into the very nest. The bird 
must have flown in the window and carried it off." 

" Course it did," said Will coolly. '' Hang-birds always hunt 
strings and such, to make their nests. See what lively young 
ones ! Won't I have fun bringing 'em up?" 

The discovery of the lace, of course, cleared Mary of suspi- 
cion, and the result was so good that his mother had not the 
heart to find much fault with him. But what of the Oriole 
family left desolate ? 

They deserted the place, and were never seen in the neighbor- 
hood any more, and the little ones, after some attem.pts to feed 
them, were given away by Will to any one who would take the 
trouble. One of them came to Marcy, and became almost her 
dearest pet. 

He was perfectly tame, and never lived in a cage. He perched 
on her finger, her head, or her shoulder, and was carried all over 
the house. As soon as he began to show a taste for weaving, 
which he did by trying to pull bits of her mother's dress through 
the meshes of her lace collar, Marcy kept him furnished with 
lace and threads, and he amused himself for hours, as a child 
does with playthings, weaving the threads through the holes 
in the lace. 

A very interesting story has been told of an Oriole brought up 
in this way by a lady in Connecticut. This pet would pry open 
her lips and take food from them, and delighted to creep under 
her cape on to her neck when the weather was cold. 

When she was sewing, the bird would play with her thread, 
try to snatch it away, or perhaps to help her. He would drive 
away anybody who tried to attract his mistress's attention, and 
he knew enough to put his cake, when hard, into water to soften. 



34^ QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

In winter his mistress had a small cage lined with cotton bat- 
ting, where the bird could sleep. As evening came on he would 
leave the big cage and go to bed himself, drawing the cotton 
together over the door, if she did not do it. 

When put into a cage with bars for a door, this wise Oriole 
knew enough to push them back, one by one, till he could 
squeeze through and get out, but he never thought of getting 
away. 

He often went on journeys with his mistress, and was perfectly 
contented, though his traveling cage was but a few inches 
square, and covered up in a bag, which left only a small hole for 
him to look out, and be fed. 

When his beloved mistress was ill, the affectionate bird hov- 
ered around her in evident distress. He would come to her 
pillow and look at her, or creep under the bedclothes to be near 
her, all the time looking sad and low-spirited. 

He was well able to express his feelings, even though he could 
not speak. In fact we have no business to call any ajiimal 
dumb; they can all communicate things, though not as we do, 
even down to tiny atoms of ants, which tell each other bits of 
news, where food is to be found, and other things of interest to 
ants. 

This bird, now, plainly told any one whom he did not like, to 
go away. He also plainly showed his sympathy and sorrow for 
his mistress's illness, and when he wanted to bathe, he would 
look at his friend and shake his wings, in a way that she under- 
stood in a moment. When she came into the house, after a 
short absence, he had no need of words to show his pleasure. 
He lived with her for seven or eight years, and was a delight- 
ful pet. 



HOW THEY LOOK. 34/ 



CHAPTER THIRTY-FIFTH. 

PLAY-HOUSE BUILDERS. 

Among the strange things in the Den, which was a real curi- 
osity shop, was a pair of stuffed birds. They were carefully 
preserved in a glass-case with other birds, which Uncle Karl 
had brought home, from some of the long journeys taken when 
he was young. 

By themselves they were simply very pretty birds, of spotted 
brown and gold color, with a sort of collar at the back of the 
neck of bright pink feathers, but looked at with a drawing of 
the play-house they make, which came out of the Blue Sketch- 
Book, they became exceedingly interesting. 

They were Bower Birds, the only family of birds yet known 
who make any sort of a house besides their nest in the trees, 
and they live in Australia, from whence come some of the queer- 
est creatures we have. 

The play-house is a wonderful structure for a bird. There is 
first made a platform of twigs, closely woven together to make 
a firm floor, and in the middle of the floor is the bower. 

This is made of twigs also, with their short branches or forks 
turned to the outside, so that the inside shall have smooth walls. 
The twigs are firmly planted in two rows in the platform, and 
bend over towards each other, thus making a covered passage- 



348 



QUEER PETS AT MaRCY'S. 



way, often three feet long, and lined with tall grasses, which are 
held in place by small stones. 

The bower being built, then comes the most curious part of 
it — it is decorated. For this purpose the birds scour the coun- 




^e^% 



BUILDING THE PLAY-HOUSE. 



try for bright or gay-colored objects, feathers — especially a cer- 
tain blue sort — snail shells, broken glass, bleached bones, bright- 
colored rags, and pebbles of various colors. 

Some of these things, as the feathers and rags, are fastened 
in the walls of the bower, and the rest are piled in a heap 



THE MOST BEAUTIFUL. 349 

before each end of the passage-way, small stones being spread 
out like a fan, from the edge of the entrance, to make little 
paths. 

On page 348 is a picture of the Spotted Bower Bird at work, 
while the end of the bower is seen from behind the tree. 

For what these pretty play-houses are built is not positively 
known, though it is certainly not for nests. They are supposed 
to be merely pleasure halls, which the birds run through, with 
loud calls and playful manners. 

The Bower Birds in the London Zoological Gardens have 
built play-houses there, and are said to be never tired of deco- 
rating and playing about them. 

The most beautiful of the family is the Satin Bower Bird, 
about the size of a pigeon, and dressed in the most glossy blue- 
black suit, with beautiful eyes of light blue, and feet and legs of 
white. The mother birds — as well as the young ones — dress in 
olive green, with eyes of still darker blue. They go in small 
flocks in the fall, and build bowers, not quite so large as their 
spotted cousins build. 

The gardeners of Australia do not admire the Bower Bird so 
much as strangers and naturalists do, for they are troublesome 
in the gardens, wanting everything they see, and pulling up 
even the little sticks used to mark where seeds are planted. 
They eat fruit and berries. 

A new Bower Bird has been discovered quite lately in New 
Guinea, which is the most wonderful builder yet known in the 
family. The bird is the size of a turtle-dove, and dresses in 
plain brown, but is a clever mimic, mocking the cries and calls 
of other birds so well as to deceive people, and drive bird hunt- 
ers to despair. 



350 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

He is called by the natives the " Master Bird/' for the reason 
just given, but he has another name — the Gardener Bird — from 
the beautiful garden he lays out in front of his door. 

The house, like the others, is no doubt a play-house, and not a 
nest, and is a beautiful structure, shaped like a tent. First the 
birds select a small tree, with a trunk the size of a walking-stick, 
and no branches near the ground — this is the center-post. 

Around the tree-trunk, on the ground, they make a soft 
cushion of moss, and then proceed to put on the roof or walls. 
This is done with the twigs of a particular orchid, which grows 
in large masses on the branches of trees. The twigs of this 
plant are easily bent in any way, and so are nice for weaving. 

About two feet from the ground, on the little tree they have 
selected, the birds fasten a quantity of these twigs, and then 
weave them together in a close texture, and fasten the ends to 
the ground, a foot and a half from the center-post on all sides, 
leaving an open space for a door. 

Thus you see they have a most beautiful tent, two feet high 
and three feet wide on the ground, with walls of a lovely plant, 
which remains fresh and green for a long time. Orchids, you 
know, are air plants, and require no earth to keep fresh. 

Inside, there is a wide ring around the moss cushion, where 
they can run about, and have social meetings, the building 
being — as I said — probably a sort of public play-house. 

But the pretty green tent is not all of the work. The little 
builders desire a garden or lawn, and more than that, they make 
one. In front of the tent is made, first, a smooth lawn of green 
moss, carefully brought to the spot, and kept perfectly clean and 
free from leaves or stones. 

On this green turf are then placed the decorations, which are 



A REMARKABLE BIRD. 



351 



flowers or fruits of pretty color, so arranged as to form an ele- 
gant little garden. The objects are of many kinds, a red fruit 
like a small apple, another of yellow color, beautiful red 
flowers, even striking-looking insects. 

So soon as one fades, it is taken away to the back of the 
house, and something new is brought to fill its place. 

This bird and his play-house were discovered and described by 
a traveler, Signor Beccari, and it is certainly, as a builder, the 
most remarkable bird yet known. 




THE MOST BEAUTIFUL IS THE SATIN BOWER BIRD 



352 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-SIXTH. 

THE CURIOUS FELLOW THAT CAME IN A BOX. 

Towards the last end of summer, Mr. Raynor, Marcy's 
father, took a journey to Washington, and when he had been 
gone about a week, there came one day, through the post-office, 
a small package for Marcy. 

It seemed to be a square tin box, with holes punched in the 
ends, and suspecting that it held something alive, it was opened 
very carefully, with many precautions to prevent its tenant from 
hopping, or flying, or wriggling out. 

There was not much danger ; he seemed to be a remarkably 
quiet creature when his prison was fairly opened to the light. 
Perhaps he was tiied from his journey in the mail-bag; any 
way he had to be tumbled out of the box into another residence. 

This was a small house of glass on the table, in which had 
lived — and also died, I regret to say — several interesting tenants 
this summer. Much of the time the house had been empty, and 
none who lived in it seemed to like it, for it was really a sort of 
prison, and no one who went inside its glass walls could get out 
without the consent of its owner. 

But this new resident was more odd than any who had lived 
there before him, and his ways were so curious that Fm sure you 
will like to hear about him. 

His dress was a dark greenish-gray, though under a magnify- 



WONDERS BEGAN AT THE WAIST. 353 

ing-glass it appeared speckled all over with red and yellow and 
brown. His body was rather more than an inch long, very 
round and plump, and covered with a pair of curiously folded 
wings. It was furnished with four long legs, and ornamented 
at the end with two little horns. 

It was at the waist, if one may call it so, that wonders began 
on this queer little fellow. The waist itself — or thorax, as the 
books call it — was as long as the body, and was straight, thin, 
and horny, more like a brown twig than anything else. On this 
part were two more legs, the strangest you ever saw. They 
were much stronger than the other four legs, and had two joints, 
that you might call elbows and wrists. They could be used in 
walking, like the others, but they had more important uses, and 
were quite differently furnished. 

Inside, the arm, as we may call it, was flat, and had a most 
formidable array of thorns or spikes, and the edge was toothed 
like a saw. Those two arms were the prisoner's only weapons, 
but they were terrible enough to the game he hunted, I can as- 
sure you. 

The oddest thing about him was his head. It was three- 
cornered, like the face of a cat as usually drawn by a child. At 
each upper corner, where the cat's ears are placed, were two 
large eyes, and at the lower corner a strange and wonderful 
mouth. 

This head could be turned any way, and the knowing look, as 
it turned to glance at a wandering fly, or at a person who came 
too near the house, was something almost uncanny. 

It was so wise and knowing in looks, that one cannot be sur- 
prised at the strange names that have been given to this little 
creature in different parts of the world, nor at the superstitions 



354 



QUEER PETS AT MARCY' S. 



about him, as that he points the way home to lost children, or 
that he brings a blessing to the one he alights upon, or that ill- 
fortune will follow any one who disturbs him. 

The books call him the Praying Mantis, from his favorite atti- 




ALL READY FOR THE FLY. 



tude, and here is the picture of him, which I shall tell you about 
soon. 

The first day the Mantis lived in the glass house he amused 
himself with trying to climb its smooth walls. He would put 



GYMNASTICS UNDER THE GLASS. 355 

out his two long arms and paw the air till he touched the glass 
with the tips of his fingers, which were a pair of hooks, by the 
way. Then he would seem to take hold with the little soft-look- 
ing pads just above the hooks, and would pull up his body till the 
four legs all held to the glass. Up he would go, three or four 
inches, till he came to the curve of the side, for the house was 
really a shade, such as you've seen over delicate objects to pro- 
tect them. 

At the curve his feet would slip, and he would slowly slide 
down, down, till near the bottom, when he would fall over on 
his back. Then his legs and arms would paw wildly for a mo- 
ment, and up he would hop and try again. 

The next morning Marcy found him very still on the floor, 
evidently tired out with his gymnastic exercises, and perhaps 
rather stiff, too, as the night had been cold. She therefore 
hastened to place his mansion on a chair before the register, and 
soon he was lively as ever, and just as anxious to climb the walls 
as before. 

But now she thought he might like his breakfast, and to know 
what he would eat she went to the big books. One mentioned 
his family name — which is Mantidce, if you want to know — and 
dismissed him with the remark that he did not live in England ; 
another merely said that he was first cousin to the Walking-Stick 
Insect, and lived in the tropics and warmer parts of the earth, 
including our own Southern States. At last one was found that 
said the Mantis was the only one of his family who would eat 
meat, the rest being strict vegetarians. But he was dainty about 
his food ; it must be fresh, and he must catch it himself. 

Armed with these facts, the books were closed, and the whole 
family turned its attention to flies. The children caught them. 



35^ QUEER PETS AT MARC VS. 

and before long the tenants of the glass house were increased by- 
eight or ten of those interesting creatures. 

Now Mr. Mantis roused himself, and became interested in 
something besides the walls of his prison. The first fly he saw, 
he planted his four legs squarely on the ground, lifted his long 
waist almost at right angles to his body, and drew his two 
thorny arms up together, almost in the attitude of prayer. 

There he stood perfectly motionless, except the turning of his 
curious little head to watch the fly as it moved about. Soon the 
stupid creature alighted on the floor beside him. Instantly the 
three-cornered face turned toward him, and the whole body 
fairly trembled with excitement. Slowly the long waist and 
horny arms bent down till about level with the body, when there 
was a sudden snatch, and the fly was caught on the sharp 
spines and held up to the hungry mouth. 

Marcy wanted to see him eat, so she carefully moved the shade 
up near his head, as Uncle Karl had shown her, and with a 
magnifying-glass she took a look at the busy eater. What a 
sight ! The whole lower part of his face seemed to be mouth. 
As he worked it, a plate on top — upper lip you might call it — 
worked up, a pair of jaws on the sides worked out and in, help- 
ing to cram in the wings and legs, and two yellow tongues — or 
something — were busy as the rest. 

All these organs were hard at work disposing of the different 
members of the fly, and every particle was eaten, though the 
head was rolled about for some time, as though almost too big 
to be taken in. 

When the last bit was swallowed, Mr. Mantis went carefully 
to work to clear up. Every part of his arms and legs were 
drawn through his mouth. He reached around with his arms 



HE WAS EXCEEDINGLY NEAT. 35/ 

and drew forward his legs one by one, and he rubbed his bent 
eibow over his head to pull down his long antennae or feelers. 

His toilet completed, he fixed his eyes upon another fly, 
which he caught in one arm, and held so till it was eaten. So 
he went on, till he had caught six, when he seemed to be satis- 
fied, and would touch no more that day. 

But he was very entertaining for all that. He cleaned him- 
self up nicely, rubbing his arm over his head as a cat does, and 
nearly bending himself double — to the children's horror, for they 
thought he would surely break off at the waist — to clean off the 
two little horns on his body. 

When he was not hungry, he paid no attention to flies which 
walked under his very nose ; but if one came near his body, he 
would raise it from the ground, where it usually rested, without 
moving his legs, looking exactly as though he was amazed at its 
impertinence. If one came too near his leg, he would lift the 
limb instantly, and hold it high in air till the impudent intruder 
had passed on. He actually seemed to have a horror of being 
touched by a fly, which was certainly curious — considering. 

Marcy was much interested in the ways of her little prisoner, 
and hoped to keep him alive for some time, though the books 
say the Mantis dies in the fall. But the next morning she was 
sorry to see that he was stiff and dull. The warmth of the regis- 
ter did not revive him ; flies ran over him without notice, and 
she put him outside the window to die, or get well if he could. 
He crawled up the side of the window-frame, and that was the 
last she saw of him. 

Then she got out the books, to see what other people knew 
about him. She found out that the Mantis mother makes her 
nursery on a twig of a tree or a bush. First she places the eggs 



358 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

in regular rows, fifty or a hundred, or even more of them, and 
then she covers them for the winter with a nice, warm, silken 
quilt, that is very tough, though light, and keeps them safe and 
comfortable through the winter. The whole nest, when done, is 
about the size of a hen's ^^^. 

When the weather is warm in the spring, the shells burst open, 
and the babies come out. They are droll little creatures, about 
as large as a common ant, and almost transparent in our coun- 
try (though in some places they are said to be black). They 
are not dull and stupid as many babies — far from it ! they're as 
lively as their mamma herself. No sooner are they out of the 
shell than they run about, and, I'm sorry to say, even fight 
among themselves, and each one quickly sets up life on its own 
account, for they are not in the least a sociable family. 

The deserted nest itself is used, in some parts of the world, by 
savage mothers, to rub the soles of their children's feet, to make 
them good walkers when they are grown up. 

I said they come out in the spring, and they do if left where 
the mother put them , but I have read of one nest which — 
queerly enough — was made on a bit of stone, that was carried 
from France, where the Mantis is common, to England, as a curi- 
osity. It was kept in a cool place until long after the little ones 
should have come out. At last it was put up on a warm man- 
tel-piece, and in a few hours they began to stir; one after another 
made its appearance, till there were fifty young Mantis babies 
running about, holding up their arms as though begging for 
food. Food was brought, but not of the right sort perhaps ; 
sugar, flowers, meat, and even insects failed to attract them, and 
in a little while they all died. 

The first thing for the baby Mantis, as for other babies, is to 



A PINK ONE, 359 

grow, which they do like many little creatures, by throwing off 
each suit as they outgrow it, till they are as long as their mother, 
about three inches, and have bright green coats and a nice pair 
of wings. They live in trees and shrubs, and are so near the 
color of the leaves that they are hard to find. 

It is said that as the leaves turn brown in the fall, the tree- 
loving Mantis turns brown too, and it is true that the one Marcy 
had was nearly the color of a dead leaf, and it was in that 
season. 

There is one of the family, however, who does not look in 
color like a leaf, but like a flower. It lives in Java, and is of a 
bright pink tint, almost exactly like an orchid blossom. Rest- 
ing quietly on a tree — as the Mantis waits for its food — this pink 
fellow must look like a flower, and no doubt many insects are 
deceived by it. 

In our country, the Mantis is found about Washington and 
Baltimore, and farther south. In Baltimore the youngsters 
make small carts or wagons of cardboard, and, with cotton 
thread, harness to them a pair of these little fellows. This queer 
pair of horses may be driven about — at least so the boys say, I 
never saw it. 

In Washington — as Grace Greenwood has told you in a nice 
story-book — they are sometimes kept as pets, and are made 
tame, so that they will come when called, and take flies and bits 
of meat from the hand, and a naturalist told her that he had 
known a Mantis three days old to catch and eat a honey-bee. 
So you see they soon learn to look out for themselves. 

There is one thing a Mantis is afraid of, and that, strange as it 
seems, is an ant. Put one in the cage, and the Mantis, though 
fifty times as big as the ant, will try to run away. Don't laugh 



360 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S, 

at him ! you must remember that in hot countries where the 
Mantis Hves, ants are more ferocious than tigers, and though 
small, they make up for size by vast numbers. No insect can 
fight with them, and large animals, and even men themselves, if 
unable to get away, are killed by them. 

The Mantis is not a coward — in fact he's a born fighter. He 
begins as soon as he's out of the shell, and never stops till stiff 
with old age. He fights his baby brothers, and he never meets 
one of his own family without a battle. Even worse than that, 
after he has killed his enemy he eats him ! 

The Chinese keep them in cages to see them fight, which 
they do by swinging their arms about like men with swords, and 
often cut off the head of their opponent by a blow. One that I 
read of in Buenos Ayres even attacked larger game. A gentle- 
man heard a bird shrieking and fluttering in a tree, and went up 
on a ladder to see what was the matter. He saw a strange 
fight. The Mantis clasped the tree with four legs, and held the 
bird (which was small) around the neck with his two arms. 

But there is something about the story that has never been 
told — that is, who began it ? The Mantis had evidently been 
pecked by the bird, and perhaps this unpleasant hug was only 
what he deserved, for trying to make a breakfast of his smaller 
neighbor. 

The Mantis in our country is a silent little fellow, but a 
traveler in Africa tells of one of the family which he found there 
who made a very loud and harsh sound like some large bird. 

This strange little creature has been called hard names. 
People who are not ignorant enough to worship or to fear him 
accuse him of cruelty. It must be admitted that his conduct in 
his family is very bad, as we look at it, but as for his fly-catching, 



THE WALKING-STICKS. 36 1 

it is what he was made for, and housekeepers certainly should 
be grateful to him. 

He has more names than any three-inch-long fellow that I 
know. Besides Praying Mantis, and all the long book-names, 
he is called Soothsayer, Praying Nun, Rear Horse, and Camel 
Cricket. The French name him Prie Dieu, and Le Precheur, 
the German, Gottes Anbeterin. 

I want to tell you what an old writer of more than a hundred 
years ago says of the Mantis, it is so quaint and funny. 

'' So divine a creature is this esteemed that if a child ask the 
way to such a place she will stretch out one of her feet and 
show him the right way, and seldom or never misse. As she 
resembleth those Diviners in the elevation of her hands, so also 
in likeness of motion ; for if they do not sport themselves as 
others do, nor leap nor play, but walking softly, she retains her 
modesty, and shewes forth a kind of mature gravity." 

You may think the Mantis is a queer-looking fellow, but you 
should see some insects that used to belong to his family, but 
have lately been put into another by the book-makers. One 
family, called the Walking-Sticks, look so much like different 
sorts of green and brown leaves that they are often mistaken 
for them, and others so nearly resemble dry twigs that they 
equally deceive people. 

One Walking-Stick that lives in Fiji is a monster, a giant in- 
sect, being fifteen inches long when his legs stretch out, as he 
usually stands, and as big as a man's thumb. 

Some of this family live in our country, though not so enor- 
mous as this one. They have never been known to do any harm 
till lately. Perhaps they have just found out how nice are 
certain trees to eat. Whatever the reason, they have within 



362 QUEER PETS AT MARCY'S. 

a few years taken to eating the leaves off many beautiful 
trees. 

Naturally this did not please the farmers. They wrote letters 
about it to the papers, and at last the naturalists went after the 
queer creatures and found out many things about them. 

rhey are sociable fellows, and when they have stripped one 
tree, they start off in armies to another, so close together that 
they cover fences and ground on the way. 

The mother Walking-Stick is not a very careful nurse. Her 
babies are safely packed in a tough little egg-shell, black and 
shining, to stay over winter, and hatch out in the spring. Now, 
instead of covering them up nicely from the cold, as the Mantis 
does her little ones, this heartless creature simply drops them to 
the ground. 

In the autumn, when the mothers are eating their last, and the 
leaves are falling — for they all die at the end of summer — one 
walking under the trees which are covered by them will hear a 
constant patter like rain, caused by the fall of eggs, which often 
lie thick enough to scrape into piles. 

Who ever heard of a shower of eggs ? 

All winter the black eggs lie on the ground — unless the farmer 
has been wise enough to destroy them — and in the spring the 
babies come out. They are dressed in pale green, and at first 
do not go very high on the trees. But they soon grow, and 
shed their skins, changing color to match the leaves, light green 
in spring, gray and brown in summer, and dead leaf color in 
autumn. 

This fellow is not a pet in the country where he lives. The 
names he gets are not pet names. Stick Bug, Prairie Alligator, 
Devil's Horse, and others. 



THE NEST AND THE MANTIS MAMMA. 



363 



Professor Riley says they may be destroyed by burying in the 
ground, or burning the dead leaves where the eggs lie. 

I can't end this story any more than I could begin it, because 
it hasn't come to an end yet. Marcy's is just as full of pets 
as ever, and new ones coming every year. I shall have to stop 
in the middle after all. 




THE NEST AND THE MANTIS MAMMA. 



4lg 



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